


Star Wars Vignettes

by Jennifer_Lyn (littleoracle)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-14
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2019-01-04 11:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 34,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12168036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleoracle/pseuds/Jennifer_Lyn
Summary: Obi-Wan's reluctance about explaining a discovery on their mission make Qui-Gon wonder about his Padawan's relationship with Siri Tachi.





	1. Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know enough about Secrets of the Jedi to make the Obi/Siri information completely accurate, so I just made it work for me. Had some fun with one of my favorite holiday songs here as a bit of challenge to myself. you'll find them in _italics_ throughout. Happy holidays!

  
Title: Let It Snow   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Obi-Wan is a teenager.  
Characters: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan  
Genre: Vignette  
Summary: Obi-Wan's reluctance about explaining a discovery on their mission make Qui-Gon wonder about his Padawan's relationship with Siri Tachi.  
Notes: I don't know enough about Secrets of the Jedi to make the Obi/Siri information completely accurate, so I just made it work for me. Had some fun with one of my favorite holiday songs here as a bit of challenge to myself. you'll find them in _italics_ throughout. Happy holidays!  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  


  
  
" _Oh, the weather outside is frightful_ , Master." Obi-Wan stood by the window, watching the snow swirl outside. Gusts of wind threw flakes against the transparisteel so rapidly that at times there was nothing more to see than a wall of white.  
  
The teenager turned toward his Master, a furrow in his brow that Qui-Gon often worried would become a permanent fixture of the boy's features within a few years' time.  
  
"Frightful, Padawan?" Qui-Gon chuckled, his Padawan's formality did at times border on the melodramatic. "It is but a storm and we're safely ensconced in this castle. I think you have little to worry about from wind and snow."  
  
"Yes, Master. It just rages so violently outside. It's not often I've seen such a thing. I pity any creature caught in it." Obi-Wan's mind was still chewing over the events earlier that evening as well as those of the last month.  
  
Qui-Gon lay on the floor, his towering frame stretched before a crackling fire. "Come and settle yourself, have some tea. I believe there are some of those berry scones you like over on the table."  
  
"Thank you, Master. I think I would prefer to stay here for now, if it's alright." The slightly-built young man turned back toward the window, not expecting an argument from his Master and so was surprised when the elder man took him to task on his brooding.  
  
" _But the fire is so delightful_ , Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon argued, sitting up and crossing his legs to make room before the fire. " _And since we've no place to go_ , come sit beside me and we shall discuss what you saw this evening. You have yet to tell me and I sense that it has something to do with the Castellan and these negotiations tomorrow."  
  
"Well, as _it doesn't show signs of stopping_ out there..." Obi-Wan's voice trailed off as he reluctantly turned his attention away from the blizzard and moved around the room, gathering a mug of tea and a small plate of scones that the kitchen staff of the castle had prepared for the Jedi.  
  
"Glad you could join me here in the present, my Padawan." Qui-Gon grinned at him, coaxing a small smirk from his apprentice. Placing a packet of large grains on the hearth, he took a tool that sat next to the poker at the side of the hearth. It consisted of a black metal box with a long handle. Opening the lid, Qui-Gon dumped a few handfuls of the grain into it and began shaking it gently over the coals. "Now you've got your tea _and I've brought some corn for popping_ from the kitchens. Tell me what you saw this evening."  
  
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan began, his obedience to his Master and respect for the man's wisdom outweighing any doubts he had about sharing his information. "I was walking through one of the western corridors when I heard two people laughing a little ahead of me. There was not supposed to be anyone there, so I crept up as quietly as I could to see if I could discern who it was."  
  
"You were not spotted?" Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at his apprentice. The situation was delicate, their presence was only barely tolerated by their host. The Castellan of Chateau Briack was locked in a bitter struggle with his own brother over the custodianship of the small moon where their father had reigned before them. The Jedi had been called in to negotiate due to the moons proximity to Ilum. Control over the sector in the wrong hands would hamper the Jedi Order's regular activities there.  
  
"No, Master," Obi-Wan assured him. "In that portion of the castle, _the lights are turned way down low_."  
  
His apprentice's skills in stealth and reconnaisance were growing rapidly. The boy was a natural sneak and it made Qui-Gon smile to think of what would have become of Obi-Wan if the Order had not chosen him. Paired with considerable diplomatic skills, some called it charm, Qui-Gon could see the young man as a highly successful con artist and cat burglar.  
  
"Ah, I see, good." he replied, pushing the distracting thought of Obi-Wan's potential life of crime to the side. "Please continue."  
  
"When I peeked around the corner, I could see a man dressed for the cold weather outside and a woman in a thick cloak. I could not see their faces. They seemed to be lovers by the looks of things and they whispered to each other. I could just barely make out what they were saying." Obi-Wan explianed.  
  
Qui-Gon pulled on his beard as he thought. "But you did hear them, of course. Was it anything important or simply the lovestruck nothings of youth?"  
  
"Well," Obi-Wan hesitated and Qui-Gon knew that he would not be happy to hear the rest of this tale. "She told him ' _When we finally kiss goodnight_ , I will return to his bed, but know that my heart goes with only you.' And he replied, " _How I'll hate going out in the storm_ , leaving you here to wonder where your fate will lie.'"  
  
Obi-Wan stopped to sip his tea and take a nibble of the scone. He had not eaten enough lately for Qui-Gon's tastes and the Master wondered if there wasn't something more to his Padawan's lack of appetite than his worry over this mission and what Ilum meant to the Order. Things seemed to have been strained between Obi-Wan and his fellow Padawan, Siri Tachi before they left the other day. Perhaps when their job here was done he would get to the bottom of that little mystery. Realizing that Obi-Wan would not continue his story without further prompting, Qui-Gon pulled his thoughts back to the current puzzle.  
  
"Well, that will surely complicate someone's life. Was there anything else?" he pressed the young man for answers.  
  
"Yes, Master, though I do not think this part means very much. She told him, ' _But if you really hold me tight_ , I shall hold that feeling to me the whole while you are gone. When you return I shall know that my life will begin again.'"  
  
Obi-Wan shivered and pulled the blanket off of the couch to wrap around his shoulders. Qui-Gon, caught up in his thoughts, had not realized the temperature was dropping in the room. Unlike his slightly built Padawan, his large size was powered by an inner furnace that left him overly warm much of the time. "I do not believe there is anyway to raise the temperature in here, Padawan, I am sorry."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at his Master's concern. "I'll be fine, Master. _All the way home, I'll be warm_ wrapped up in my bunk on the ship. Public transport vessels are often too warm rather than too cold."  
  
"Still, I do not wish to see you so uncomfortable." Qui-Gon looked at the hearth, realizing that there was little more than glowing embers in its base. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, I've been listening to you and all the while, _the fire is slowly dying_." Shuffling the coals around, Qui-Gon ignited a few sparks as he laid another log on the fire. "That's better, now continue, please."  
  
With a nod of deferrence to his Master, Obi-Wan told the rest of his tale. "She whispered some more to him, saying 'I will count the minutes until your return.' He smiled at her and said, 'I will ride swift and sure so that I may come back to you, but in order for that to happen, I must depart now _and my dear we're still goodbye-ing_.' She laughed then and whispered, ' _But as long as you love me so_ , I will wait until the end of time for you.' And then they kissed before he slipped out the door."  
  
Obi-Wan sat back, waiting for the question he knew was coming. The answer would not make Qui-Gon happy and would put a big kink in their plans for tomorrow.  
  
"So, you do not know who the couple was?" Qui-Gon questioned.  
  
Rubbing his head with his hand, Obi-Wan replied. "The man was the Castellan's brother, Master. The man who we met this afternoon. The one who is trying to mitigate peace despite the information in his father's will."  
  
For some reason unbeknownst to the Jedi, the men's father decided to pit his sons against each other for control of the moon. One brother had seized control of the castle, the other had control over everything else. The Castellan was determined that he should have control over the whole of it and had a powerful army to back him up, despite the fact that his brother had the love and support of the general populace.  
  
Qui-Gon watched as the snow swirled outside, the wind howling against the transparisteel. "Yes, the Castellan and his brother, so odd that these two men could be so different. And the woman?"  
  
"I could not tell at first, but she pulled her hood down after he left. She began walking towards my hiding place and I pulled myself into a doorway, shielding myself from detection as best I could." Obi-Wan explained, the furrow in his brow creasing deeper as he spoke.  
  
"And who was it, Padawan?" Qui-Gon's voice took on a tone of authority. He was letting the young man tell the story as he needed, but if the woman's identity would cause that much uproar, they needed time to plan and this reluctance was becoming nothing more than a waste of time.  
  
"It was the Castellan's wife, Master." Obi-Wan said, a frown joining the furrow on his face, betraying his worries.  
  
She was the one woman the brother could not have and the information would complicate things considerably, especially if the clandestine pair was determined to uphold their vows to each other. But, why did this seem to bother Obi-Wan so intensely? Qui-Gon considered this new bit of information for a moment, a few connections taking form in his mind as he remembered the last time he had seen his Padawan spar with Siri Tachi. There was an intensity between them that he could see now with the aid of distant perspective. A few days later they both had seemed miserable and avoided each other's company at mealtimes. Their first priorty was this mission, but when it was completed, Qui-Gon determined to have a conversation with his Padawan about one of the most difficult subjects in a Jedi's life. Love.  
  
Looking up from thoughts that seemed to keep changing direction as swiftly as the wind outside, Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan was waiting for a response. "Well, yes, that could cause a problem with the negotiations tomorrow." Qui-Gon admitted. "Sometimes love can lead one down a very difficult path and more than two people's lives are effected by its whirlwind of emotions, just like the blizzard out there."  
  
Obi-Wan opened his mouth, about to say something, but then thought better and closed it, looking down into his almost empty teacup as if it would give him the answers he sought. Qui-Gon reached a hand out, placing it heavily on the boy's shoulder.  
  
"The storms of life will pass in time, Obi-Wan." he reassured his Padawan. "Sometimes there is little we can do, except wait for tomorrow and _let it snow_."  
  
" _Let it snow_ , Master?" The idea was too simple, too easy, for Obi-Wan right now. To just let all of his thoughts drift with the wind was an enticing idea, but seemed to belittle the strong feelings he was experiencing. Yet, that was not the Jedi way and he knew it. Closing his eyes for a moment, he gave his pain and heartbreak to the Force and felt his heart lighten a little. Even if it was just for the evening, it would be a relief to release those burdens and gather the strength to work through them from a place of power when they returned.  
  
"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied with a gentle smile. " _Let it snow_."  


 

  



	2. Searching For The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a darkness/evil-learning sock and would love constructive critisism.

  
Title: Searching For The Light   
Author: Cpt_OC_Readmore  
Timeframe: Jedi Purges  
Characters: unnamed, male OC  
Genre: Darkness and evil!  
Author's note: I am a darkness/evil-learning sock and would love constructive critisism.  
Disclaimer: It all belongs to George, but only because we let him.  
  


  
  
I never intended things to go this way. I always thought I’d end up somewhere quiet with a little wife and maybe a kid. At least a canid or two to keep me company on long walks through the woods or something.  
  
Instead, I’m here. Here in this dark, damp, hellish nighmare that I constantly strain to awake from, but I can’t. It won’t let me, do you understand? There is a demon inside me and it wants control. Every opportunity it gets, it crawls deeper into my mind, sinks spikes into my soul and devours every bright thought I manage to hold onto.  
  
It was a year ago today that I first discovered it. I was on a routine job, just tracking down some lowlife who had skipped off on his superior with a large sum of credits. I’m the one they send to take care of him. Typical assignment, right? Except it wasn’t. This was some kid I had met down at the loading dock the day before. Not so bright, not so bad a kid. A newbie, fresh meat for the machine.  
  
So, he had seen an opportunity to make off with a bit of cash and try to get a start somewhere else. Sorry, mister. It doesn’t work like that. So I tracked him across a couple of systems. The kid had me for a little while, too, and that’s rare. I’ve got this extra sense, see? It sits at the back of my mind and tells me where danger is and where my bounty might be hiding and useful stuff like that.  
  
So I track this kid down, done it to others like him probably fifty, sixty times before, no big deal. He’s holed up in some dank little place, trying to wait out people like me. When he goes out, thinking he’s all carefree, that’s when I get him. I wait in the alley and grab him as he walks by.  
  
We struggle in that dark passageway that stinks of rotten food and urine. That’s when I feel it. He’s got the same extra sense I do. Only he doesn’t know what he’s got and it’s soft and warm and it’s all full of Light where mine is grey and dingy and sometimes painful.  
  
And I take it from him. I reach into his unprotected mind and take that Light for my own. I’m awash in power that I never knew existed. I feel good and free for the rest of the day. The kid? Vegetable. When I took his Light, the rest of his mind just withered, I felt it. Put him out of his misery in that alleyway and never looked back. Probably better for him anyway.  
  
By the next morning, the Light I had taken had faded. In its place was a hole filled with dark anger. I was trapped in it, the rhythym of my need for relief pounded in my head. My sense wasn’t grey anymore. It was pitch black, it was angry, and it was hungry.  
  
So I did the only thing anyone in my situation would do. I went looking for somebody else who had that same senses I did, only had the Light side of it. If I found them, I knew I could get that Light feeling back and be free again. I tried over and over. I could never get it to last more than a couple of days. No matter how much Light the being had, it was never enough to get me out of the hole. I keep trying though. I take different kinds of jobs now. They’re more dangerous, but they expose me to more beings who have the extra sense I do. I heard they used to be Jedi. I wouldn’t know much about that, but the Empire has a long list of targets and they pay well.  
  
Maybe someday I’ll find somebody strong enough with Light to finally burn away all this Dark and pain and anger. Until then I’m just gonna keep working at it, doing my job and bearing this burden as best I can. And the worst part is, I’m enjoying every minute.  


 


	3. Old Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben arranges transport to Alderaan at the cantina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this viggie in mind for the better part of a year. I'm sure someone else has taken a crack at this scene before, but I just had to do it when the words finally showed up. I don't usually write OT characters, so please forgive my character interpretations if they rub you the wrong way. 

Title: Old Allies  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: ANH  
Characters: Ben, Chewie, Han, Luke  
Genre: vignette  
Summary: Ben arranges transport to Alderaan at the cantina.  
Disclaimer: This is not the author you're looking for. Move along.  
Notes: I've had this viggie in mind for the better part of a year. I'm sure someone else has taken a crack at this scene before, but I just had to do it when the words finally showed up. I don't usually write OT characters, so please forgive my character interpretations if they rub you the wrong way.   


  
  
The dingest cantina in Mos Eisley was known far and wide to be the retreat of some of the best starpilots in the galaxy. Despite the dangerous nature of the clientele, if there was any place on the Force-forsaken planet one would find a ship able to dodge the Imperial star destroyer hovering above Tatooine, it would be here.  
  
Knowing he had to be careful, Ben Kenobi scanned the interior of the cantina with a practiced eye. It wasn't just his own safety at risk anymore. Unlike his usual solo visits, he had an innocent young man and two droids in tow, probably all with decent bounties on their heads.  
  
After the droids were rejected entry and sent to wait by the speeder, Ben surveyed the dark corners of the establishment for any potential pilot candidates. After rejecting a Duro, a shifty looking Rodian and a few beings whose species he could not determine, he spotted a Wookiee at the bar ordering drinks.  
  
Checking that Luke, wide-eyed and occupied with getting the bartender's attention, seemed to be okay on his own for the moment, Ben made his way to the far end of the bar and took a seat next to the towering creature. On closer examination, Ben wondered if he had made a mistake catching the Wookiee's attention. A flash of recognition passed through his mind; he knew this particular Wookiee. The years had been kind to the being, his species' long lifespan leaving him unchanged, unlike the aging Jedi Master. The last time Ben saw the massive being beside him had been through a holotransmission in the Council chamber of the Jedi Temple.  
  
Searching his mind for a name, Ben plunged into a cloud of old memories. Chewbacca! That was it! With the name came a small flood of other information. He was the right hand of Tarfful, representing his planet in a request for Jedi assistance against the Seperatists. Flashes of pain attached to the memories stabbed at Ben's mind, trying to break the calm and peace he spent the last eighteen years cultivating, but they could not destroy his resolve now. The Force, more than ever, was his ally. Looking within its swirling eddies, Ben sensed a new, subtle shift and with this new thread in mind, he spoke to the Wookiee.  
  
"I am looking for a ship." he said, his voice smooth and even.  
  
_’I've got a ship.'_ Chewbacca replied and Ben silently thanked Qui-Gon for making him learn Wookspeak as a Padawan.  
  
_’Cargo?'_ came the rumbling growl.  
  
"Passengers." Ben told him in a casual tone, his voice void of emotion.  
  
_’Where are you from? You don't smell like a smuggler.'_ Chewbacca inhaled deeply _’A rich man would not be on Tatooine, and your voice is too cultured for this planet.'_  
  
"Perhaps I'm Black Sun." Ben offered, his tone betraying nothing.  
  
_’No.'_ Chewbacca sniffed again, shaking his shaggy head as recognition crept in. _’I know you.'_  
  
They sat in silence for a moment. Chewbacca turned and gave Ben a long, hard stare, impressed when the old man did not flinch under his glare. Most would have run for the hills at this point, yet this one sat there, emenating a sense of deep calm. An unnatural, unsettling calm he had not seen in years.  
  
_’Jedi.'_ Chewbacca rumbled, confident in his response.  
  
"Perhaps." came the noncommital reply.  
  
_’Know, did you, a small, strange being?'_ Chewbacca imitated the unique pattern of Yoda's speech.  
  
At this, Ben sighed, pulling on his beard, and the Wookiee knew he was on the right track.  
  
"He's hidden now, but safe." the human confirmed.  
  
_’It warms my heart to hear he is well.'_ Chewbacca nodded his head, then gave Ben another long look, cocking his head to the side in thought. _’Still, I remember your face, but not your name. Will you not tell me?'_  
  
"Kenobi" came the quietest of whispers, pitched so only the Wookiee would be able to hear the word.  
  
Chewbacca gave a single shake of his head, reinforcing his words. _’You lie. He's dead.'_  
  
With that a broad grin spread over Ben's face as he held back a bark of laughter. "I've done quite the job, haven't I, if all think I've passed on."  
  
_’Prove yourself.'_ came Chewbacca's harsh growl, a tone not to be trifled with under the best of circumstances. _'I do not believe the Negotiator still lives. He would not have sat by while my people were enslaved.'_  
  
The humor in Ben's features drained at lightning speed. "I had not heard, I am truly sorry. I have been here on a particular mission, my last if things unfold as I forsee them."  
  
_’Prove to me you are him and I'll arrange for your ship.'_ Chewbacca offered. _’You are a Jedi, I can smell it now that I know what I'm seeing. One of your kind would never willingly abandon any to suffering. There is greater purpose in your mission.'_  
  
Pulling on his beard, Ben sorted through his memories before responding. "I remember your plea for help from the Council. Your speech made Kashyyyk's plight a priority with the Council and after the clones turned on the Jedi, you helped Master Yoda escape."  
  
_’Perhaps.'_ Chewbacca echoed Ben's oblique response. _’But that is rare knowledge, not exclusive. Tell me something only Kenobi would know.'_  
  
Ben sighed, allowing memories of the Clone Wars to flood his mind as he sought the vital piece of information that would gain the Wookiee's trust. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a sharp whisper.  
  
"Alaris Prime was under seige. My apprentice helped free the colony moon and, in the aftermath, I met in secret with Tarfful to arrange the escape ship Master Yoda used after the clones turned. It was meant as an escape for the King if Kashyyyk was overrun. Only myself, Master Yoda, Tarfful, you and the King were to know about it. You sacrificed the king's safety to aid Master Yoda and for that I will be forever grateful."  
  
Chewbacca absorbed the information, memories of the past flooding through his own mind. He gave Ben a short nod. _’General Kenobi, I am at your service.'_  
  
Ben gave him a nod in return. "It is Ben, now, and thank you."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, each taking a sip of their beverage, a silent toast to lost commrades.  
  
Sensing their time was running short, Ben shifted the conversation to the present. "Are you the pilot of your craft?"  
  
_'No, I am under lifedebt to a human. He rescued me from the slavers, risking himself in the process.'_ Chewbacca pointed to a brown-haired smuggler sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the cantina. _’He's a good man beneath the bluster.'_  
  
Ben gave a thin smile. "I would expect no less a companion to one of your kind, my friend."  
  
_’We shall not mention the past to him?'_ Chewbacca questioned, though he already knew the answer.  
  
Ben shook his head. "No, not yet at any rate. Both our lives are at enough risk, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Chewbacca let out a sarcastic bark of laughter before standing up to leave the bar. _’That is an understatement, even for a Jedi. I'll go speak with him, arrange a meeting.'_  
  
Ben placed a hand on the Wookiees arm for the briefest of moments. "Thank you, Chewbacca."  
  
_’May the Force be with you. Obi-Wan Kenobi.'_ Chewbacca rumbled, leaving Ben to finish his drink.  
  
Ben smiled as the Wookiee turned to leave. Yes, it was time. First Luke and his sister and now this Wookiee. The past was coming to meet the future and he would leave Ben on Tatooine where he belonged. Obi-Wan Kenobi would hide in the shadows no more. He stood and began looking for Luke, disturbed to see the boy had caught the attention of some less than savory looking characters at the other end of the bar.  
  
Chewbacca made his way through the crowd and took a seat next to his long-time companion. Sitting with his back to the wall, nursing a cheap beer, Han pointed at the retreating figure of Ben Kenobi.  
  
"What's up with the old guy?" he asked in his usual condecending, cocksure tone.  
  
_’He needs transport. We should take him.'_ came the explanation. Han recognized the evasive tone in the Wookiee's voice, it always meant trouble.  
  
"Not another one of those hard luck cases, is it Chewie?" The Wookiee's noble desire to aid the less fortunate did little to get them out from under the debt they owed Jabba. The Falcon had carried its share of refugees in the last couple of years and Han was wary of gaining a reputation as a good samaritan. It was bad for business.  
  
Chewbacca shook his head and reassured his friend. _’No, he can pay. He just needs to go to Alderaan.'_  
  
"Alderaan?" Han blurted, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "That's a bit Coreward for my tastes. No."  
  
_’We can swing by Corellia on the way back through.'_ Chewie offered, knowing the pilot's weakness for his home planet. _’Pick up a legit cargo for once and get some of that ale you're so fond of.'_  
  
Han considered for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought. "Okay, you got a point there, Chewie. We'll take him, but don't tell him I said so. I'm not gonna get the reputation of being an easy dealer this late in the game, got it?" he warned, pointing a finger at his copilot.  
  
Chewbacca barked his affirmative. He was headed for the bar when a scream rang through the crowd. There was a flash of light and more yelling. When the short fight was over, everyone gave Kenobi clear passage as he stowed his lightsaber and helped a blond, young man off the floor.  
  
Chuckling under his breath, Chewbacca moved to the Negotiator's side as the old Jedi began to introduce him to his young companion.  
  
"This is Chewbacca. He's first-mate on a ship that might suit our needs."


	4. From My Point of View...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man looses more than his home when the Repbulic army comes to liberate his planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Evil Obi-Wan challenge.

Title: From My Point of View...  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Clone Wars  
Characters: Obi-Wan, OC  
Genre: Angst  
Summary: A young man looses more than his home when the Repbulic army comes to liberate his planet.  
Notes: Written for the Evil Obi-Wan challenge.  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  
  
  


Word passed from person to person, everything was discreet. Sometimes handsignals, sometimes whispers, sometimes it was just a look. We all needed to be ready for when they arrived. Fear traveled just behind the news; could we really be of any help? We were all just common folk, living our lives on a planet that happened to be run by a weak government. When the Confederacy showed up, there wasn't enough strength to withstand them and instead of displaying a backbone, our representatives caved in and gave up their control.  
  
It hadn't been too bad, all things considered. Taxes went up, food was more expensive and there were a couple of fuel shortages, but the communities began to band together. We were making it work. Rationing saved us all that winter.  
  
Then the fateful day finally arrived. No one tarried with their errands, dashing from place to place, worried looks across their tired faces. Boards began to appear, covering windows. Looking up, even in bright daylight I could see the lights of a firefight in space, high above us. The liberation had begun and there was nothing we could do to stop it now.  
  
There were rumors that the Jedi were involved, leading the fleets and the ground forces. I didn't believe them. The Jedi were above petty conflicts, weren't they? They wouldn't be involved in a war, would they?  
  
I was making my way home, Mum needed my help moving Gramma's painting into the basement. "To hide it from looters" she said, but I knew it was more out of fear the house might be confiscated by CIS troops on the run. Some of our population thought it was better to fight alongside the droid army and joined their forces rather than resist the occupation.  
  
I could see Mum on the steps watching for me. I heard a whistling sound above me and looked up. A small speck grew into a flaming ship plummeting toward the ground. I froze in place. I knew there was no way to stop it, my heart leaping into my throat when I realized where it would land.  
  
I don't remember what it sounded like. I don't remember the heat that left my arm in these bandages. All I know is that one minute my Mum was standing on the steps and the next both she and the house were gone. The explosion knocked me from my feet and when the smoke cleared that I might see the wreckage, all I could make out were orange flames surrounding an insignia painted on the remains of the ship.  
  
It was the symbol of the Jedi.  
  
It was true. They had chosen a side and now my mother was dead, my home destroyed, because they fought alongside the Republic. In my shock, my brain came to the only conclusion possible.  
  
The Jedi were evil.  
  
I ran. There was no choice now and I sprinted up the street just as the first batallions of Republic shock troops landed and began securing the area surrounding my home. In my delusion, I flew right into them, crashing into their leader. He was wearing a cloak over his armor and I got tangled in it as I tried to free myself from his tight grip.  
  
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" I screamed at him. "Gotta get away from the Jedi! Evil! Evil!"  
  
I was incoherent, my grief and my shock comingled until I lost the ability to speak and started clawing at the trooper holding me. He held me tight with one hand, passing his free one in front of my face before everything went black.  
  
"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck. I've got a bad feeling about this. We got in too easily. The Separatists have surely planted something, surveillance equipment; a bomb, perhaps."  
  
I heard the voice filtering through the haze of my mind, but I did not open my eyes. If I did, then all the vague thoughts about what happened would become true and clear and I would have to begin accepting them. No, it was better to lay still beneath the cool sheets and listen to the conversation going on around me.  
  
"Take two units and all the scanning equipment we've got. Do a full-scale survey and then report back to me." the voice was firm and commanding, giving orders with practiced authority.  
  
"Yes sir, General Kenobi." came the crisp response before footsteps clicked, fading away into the general din of the room.  
  
_'Kenobi?'_ I thought. I heard rumors about some great general who was rescuing planets all over the galaxy. He was supposed to be some kind of hero to the Republic or something. I also heard he was a good man who showed mercy to all he encountered. Allowing my eyes to open just a sliver, I found that he was standing over me. I had a vague memory of getting tangled in the thick, brown cloak he wore.  
  
"You are awake." he spoke first, his voice even. "I can tell, there is no point in hiding from me."  
  
Who was this guy? I wondered if he could read my thoughts, too. I hadn't given any indication that I was awake and yet he knew.  
  
"I would like to speak with you about what happened yesterday." his voice was softer when he spoke to me than when he gave orders to his soldiers.  
  
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was standing near my cot, his helmet off. Arms crossed over his chest, he twisted at his moustache, a motion that seemed second nature to him and gave him a contemplative look. The cloak he wore was wrapped around him and I wondered if it gave him a sense of security, like a child with a blanket, or if he simply wore it to set himself apart from his men.  
  
"What is there to tell?" I asked him, my voice void of any emotion. Shock still had its grip on me and I dreaded the moment when it would lift, grief settling into its vacated space. For now, I would speak with this man from the dull place in my heart. "My mother lies dead under the rubble caused by one of your fighters. A Jedi." I shook my head, despite my resistance, a great saddness began to settle itself like a weight on my chest.  
  
"Yes, the being who crashed was a Jedi. Why does that disturb you so?" he questioned, sitting now on the edge of my bed.  
  
I attempted to sit up, the anger from the previous day swelling with sudden vehemance in my heart. "Because the Jedi don't take sides! They protect! They don't kill!"  
  
Saying nothing, he pondered my declarations for a moment and I saw a flicker of sadness pass over his features. "You know," he explained. "Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view."  
  
"Point of view?" The quiet rage rooted itself deeper in my mind, clarifying my thoughts into a brillant edged blade. "This has nothing to do with point of view. If the Jedi have chosen sides, then they cannot be the great beings I was always taught they were. They have become the very evil they were supposed to protect us all from."  
  
"But what if the side they choose is the good side and the war they fight is just?" he asked, a quiet hope tinging his tone. Was this regret I sensed from him, some personal quest for redemption for past deeds? He would not get such solace from me.  
  
"It makes no difference." I argued, wondering why my opinion seemed to mean so much to him in the first place. "War is evil, there is no way around it. Innocent beings die, families are torn apart. There is no justification you can give me that will ever make that okay."  
  
"Even if millions are saved in the process?" he hedged. There again was that quiet regret. What had this man done in the name of the Repbulic? What actrocity was he trying to justify to himself?  
  
"Yes, even then." I told him, my voice firm, tinged with a hint of venom. "There is always another way, no one has to die. You are a soldier yourself. You, out of anyone, should understand the cost of war."  
  
"Yes," he replied, his voice a quiet whisper. "Yes, I do."  
  
Feeling bad for himself? Good. Whatever it was he did, he should feel bad about it and I was not going to let him forget it. "Then you know what I'm talking about. You think your war is justified? Tell that to my mother. Oh, sorry. She's dead. You can tell it to the pile of rubble that covers her body."  
  
We sat in uncomfortable silence for a long moment. Finally, he spoke in a quiet, firm voice. "There is nothing I can say to console you and for that I am truly sorry. My apologies for disturbing your rest and my sympathies for your loss."  
  
He stood to leave, turning back once more, a subtle pain etched on his features. "Just know that the Jedi did not commit to this undertaking lightly, nor does a day go by when they do not wish for a different solution to this conflict."  
  
I did not reply to him, I could not. I would not bang my head against a duracrete wall. The guy was obviously a career soldier and no amount of argument from me would change his mind. I watched as he moved from bed to bed, checking on the injured.  
  
Intrigued, I watched as he stopped to give comfort to those who would accept it from him, some of them even laughing at things he said. A few times he held someone's hand as they gave their story or aided the med droids as they changed bandages. Where did a military man learn that kind of compassion? None of the other men he surrounded himself with seemed so human, so real. They followed orders and kept their distance from the civilians around them, but he didn't.  
  
At last I watched him take a final look around the room and he met my eyes once more. A simple nod of acknowledgement and he turned to go, his cloak billowing out behind him. That's when I saw it. A lightsaber hilt hanging on his belt.  
  
Do I still think the Jedi evil? No, I have calmed myself, working through my grief as the days pass. It has helped me to understand the freedom the Jedi returned to our planet and the sacrifices they, too, have made.  
  
But I don't think I'll ever trust one again. 

  



	5. The Shaman and the Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two unlikely friends are captured by the Empire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Mod Dare Challenge. The dare: Write a mush scene between an Ewok and a Jawa. Must include the words: cuddly, midget and exponential. I’d like to personally thank the mods for randomly choosing me to be the recipient of this challenge. 

Title: The Shaman and the Warrior  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: ANH, bookends just post-ROTJ  
Characters: OCs!  
Genre: drama, mush  
Summary: Two unlikely friends are captured by the Empire.  
Disclaimer: This is not the author you're looking for.  
Notes: For the Mod Dare Challenge. The dare: Write a mush scene between an Ewok and a Jawa. Must include the words: cuddly, midget and exponential. I’d like to personally thank the mods for randomly choosing me to be the recipient of this challenge.   
  


  
  
They brought her in and despite the fact that I was briefed quite thoroughly on her species, I could not keep my nose from crinkling a bit at the smell. It was not her fault, no lapse in hygiene practices on her part, simply a trait of her species. I invited her in and after a few pleasantries, we got down to the business at hand.  
  
Her story was one of the most unique to emerge from the tapestry of tales now surfacing in the wake of the fallen Empire. Many came forward with stories of Imperial captivity, hoping for financial compensation for their troubles. Some sought to capitalize on the situation and presented false testimony; sadly almost none of the frauds were exposed as very few of the Empires records have been decrypted to disprove their claims.  
  
That is where Jeek Trak comes in. Her story is fully documented and, having never been encrypted, fully verified. Add to that it's most interesting ending, and it is a publishers dream. And I was the lucky writer who got to record it.  
  
She spoke with a high-pitched voice, her tone melodic, reflecting the singsong qualities often heard among the Jawa clans. "I remember when brought he in with me." she paused, looking at me with her hauntingly blank, yellow eyes. "I am so sorry. Broken Basic not very good, yes?"  
  
"No, no, it's fine, Jeet. I may ask you to repeat some things, though. Is that alright?" I told her.  
  
She got a bit defensive. "Intelligent I am, yes. Make no mistake! Shaman of my clan. Equal with, how you say it? Menfolk, yes, that is it."  
  
I had already gotten much of her story down, but we were coming into a very important part of the tale. I offered to get a translator droid. Not one of those fussy protocols, but a straight translator. She agreed enthusiastically.  
  
"Ah, droid to hear words and change them for me. Good. Important words I have. No mistake in my story."  
  
Once the droid arrived and was set up, I flicked it on and we continued, the low buzz of the recording equipment and the translator the only sounds in the room besides her speaking.  
  
"You can understand me better now that I can speak my language, yes? Your scent is pleasing to my senses, though I do not like the hint of fear. I am nothing to be afraid of, no. I share my story gladly. Where did we leave off? Oh, no, I remember! Now, no interruptions, young human!"  
  
I nodded my head in agreement and she settled her small frame further into the cushioned seat before continuing her tale.  
  
"I remember when they brought him in with me; it was only a few days after I got there. He didn't smell healthy and he hadn't eaten in some time. I couldn't work out his lineage, he didn’t smell of any clan I recognized, but he was definitely male. I wondered how the white clad cowards separated him from his clan.  
  
I thought maybe we could work together; find a way out of this cold place that stunk of death and metal. Then they removed the cloth wrapped around him and I saw his face. He was neither of my race nor even my planet. His thick fur would be a death sentence on the dry dunes of my home. My people shed their fur eons ago when my planet became a desert.  
  
Still, his eyes were bright as he blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the glaring lights of our cell. And he did have the smell of a warrior about him. There was a small hope that we could get out of here if we could communicate.  
  
After removing the cloth, the armored soldiers left the room and I heard that familiar hiss of the door locks sliding into place. My fellow prisoner then crawled over to the wall opposite me and leaned his back against the cold durasteel. Finally looking up, he jumped when he saw me and I caught the scent of his fear.  
  
I put my hand out and made the waving motion of the wind across the sands, a symbol of greeting among my people. He didn't react, simply staring at me as if he didn't know what I was. Of course, I was just as confused at the time, but at least I didn't smell any hostility from him.  
  
I stood with a slow motion and walked over to him, keeping my footsteps soft on the hard metal. He looked up at me, eyes tearing in the bright light. I put my back against the wall and slid down next to him. We sat there for a long time, neither of us moving.  
  
After a while, he spoke to me, asking me a question. I was stunned that I recognized enough of what he said to try to answer him. He looked just as surprised when I replied.  
  
'I am Jeet Trak. I am shaman.' I told him.  
  
'I am Teemo. I am hunter.' he said.  
  
So we started a friendship. Sometimes we had to try different words until our meaning was understood, but over the next days we told each other our stories.  
  
I told him "My clan was raided by the humans in white armor. They killed everyone in sight. They used the Sandpeople's weapons. I don't know why they didn't use their own weapons. It makes no difference now, my clan died all the same. When they found out I was still alive, they grabbed me and tied my arms and legs then took me to their ship in the sky. There were many days of travel, then they left me here in this metal-smelling room."  
  
His people were not killed; he was alone when he was taken from his home and transported here. Our captors had overcome him easily, they were so huge and their weapons so powerful he had no chance to escape. It angered him that he was so easily captured.  
  
He told me that if his fellow warriors had been with him, the armored men would not have survived the battle and I believed him. There was fire in his eyes and his scent got stronger when he told me of his brothers; like the menfolk when they told tales of a big haul. I admired him and would have treasured that fire even more if I knew what was to happen soon.  
  
It was about a week later when things changed. I knew the days from the lights-out patterns our captors allowed us. It could have been much longer or shorter days than I knew and their day and my day were probably different lengths anyway. Still, eight night cycles passed, then things got bad for us.  
  
The white armored men came in again. They were strange; they all smelled the same, like they were the same person. They grabbed Teemo, then me and dragged us from the room. We struggled hard as they pulled us down a long hallway and into a room with two big tables. We resisted as much as we could, but they were stronger and got us tied down to the tables. A man who smelled of chemicals and cruelty came in when they were done. He didn't say anything to us, but just started working. It didn't really hurt when the first needle went in, but by the time the last was in, I was in pain and scared.  
  
The man then did the same thing to Teemo. When he was finished, he went over to a bank of buttons and readouts. I saw him press some buttons this first time. I never watched him do it again. I caught a hint the man's odor as he worked. It was layered with anticipation.  
  
A second later pain leaped through me and my brain was on fire. Arcs of electricity encircled me, prodding every nerve ending and shooting pain everywhere. I tried to look at Teemo. He had the same horror and pain on his face I knew was on mine.  
  
When the man was done with us, we couldn't move. Everything hurt, even breathing. The only thing I could smell was something burning and the ozone from the electricity. The armored men came back and carried us to our cell. When they left, we moved as close to each other as we could without touching.  
  
Teemo asked me, 'Where doesn't it hurt?'  
  
I held up my finger, 'Here.'  
  
He nodded, 'Me, too.'  
  
Then he moved his arm, putting his hand out until our fingers touched. We fell asleep there on the floor.  
  
After a night's rest, the pain was about all gone and, though we felt weak, we were able to talk.  
  
We wondered to each other what was going on, what the man was trying to do and if we could think of any way out. With no solution, we crawled onto our bunks and tried to sleep. Much later, the men returned and dragged us back out of the door. This time we went to separate rooms. I never found out what happened to Teemo while we were separated.  
  
The same procedure was repeated on me but this time I was a little better prepared. I used my shaman skills to release some of the pain and when we were back in the cell, I was able to recover much more quickly. My companion was not so lucky. When he came back he could not speak or move. He simply lay there on the hard floor, shivering.  
  
I had never seen this kind of injury among my clan and had no idea what to do for him, so I did the only thing I could think of; I pulled the pillows and blankets off the bunks and lay next to him, making him as comfortable as I could.  
  
We awoke the next morning and looked at each other. I greeted him warmly and he gave me a weak smile. That's when I saw it and truly became worried. The fire in his eyes I so admired was dimmed.  
  
We talked little that day and were relieved when the men did not return before the lights went out. We climbed into our bunks at the end of the day and I closed my eyes to try to sleep, though my mind was still spinning, trying to find some way to get us out of there. A few minutes later, Teemo called out to me, asking if he might come lay beside me.  
  
I thought for a moment before answering. I do not think it is typical for unmarried couples of either of our societies to share a sleep space, but this was a special situation.  
  
I told him yes. It was much easier to fall asleep with him near. He must have felt the same; he fell asleep before me, almost immediately after he lay down.  
  
Morning came much too soon, or our night was extra short, but the light came on as the door hissed open just the same. I heard laughter, edged with a cruelty I've never heard before. I could smell a desire to harm us, for no other reason than boredom. It made my stomach churn.  
  
'Hey, look at the cuddly midgets. Wonder if they could mate.' It was the armored men.  
  
'Ugh.' said the other. 'Can you imagine the smell then?'  
  
'No kidding. It would 'increase exponentially' as the Doc would say.' He imitated the haughty accent of the doctor.  
  
'You got it. Well, let's get them up and make our delivery. I'm ready for some grub.'  
  
Once again we were grabbed and dragged out of the room. Teemo didn't struggle this time.  
  
I yelled at him. 'Fight this! We can get out, but you have to fight!'  
  
As we were dragged down the hall and separated, I screamed louder. 'You are a warrior! Fight them!'  
  
I struggled more than ever before. It took a long time for them to get me onto that table that day.  
  
"This one's particularly problematic, isn't she?" the man in the white coat asked the men.  
  
'Got that right, Doc. I think her and the Ewok have a little thing going on. She was extra upset when we took him out of sight.'  
  
'How interesting. If he survives the tests, we'll see about monitoring them for a while. I've always wondered if Ewoks and Jawas could be crossbred. Well perhaps I'll get to find out. For now I've got work to do. You two may go, your shift is over, correct?'  
  
With a nod in the affirmative, the two men left.  
  
All I remember after that is the pain. Time was lost for me and I don't remember anything else. It was much worse than my shamanic initiation.  
  
I lay on my bunk for a long time before they brought my friend back. The lights were already off when the door hissed open and they dragged him in. At least they put him on his bunk this time.  
  
He lay there not speaking or moving. I could smell his pain, his defeat. I crawled over and lay on the bunk next to him, covering us both with the blanket. After a moment of silence, I stretched my hand out and gently touched his shoulder. He didn't respond, but I smelt a change in his scent. He relaxed a little as he drifted to sleep and I put my arm protectively over him before falling asleep myself.  
  
I woke as usual the next morning, sore but feeling some relief. Teemo was not any better, in fact he was worse. That's when I smelled it. Death. He was dying and he wasn't fighting it.  
  
I nudged him and his head turned weakly to face me. The dark pools of his eyes were lost in a cloudy mist. He moved his mouth to speak and I told him to save strength. His scent grew weaker with each passing moment.  
  
I pulled him close to me and we lay there together. I prayed to my gods, but they didn't answer. There was barely anything left of him but an empty shell when I heard an explosion out in the corridor followed by blaster fire.  
  
I was curious what was going on, but nothing would take me from Teemo’s side now. I could barely hear his breath and his chest did not move but for a few ragged heaves. He reached a hand out and into my hood. He whispered a regret to me, which I will not repeat here and with a blessing from my gods to aid him, he slipped away into the shadow realm.  
  
I still watched his chest, hoping to see a few more breaths, just a spark of life before I let him go. As I waited, I large clanging sound erupted just outside our door. Sparks flew in and within seconds there were men and women surrounding us speaking very quickly. I did not understand much Basic then, I didn't know what they wanted.  
  
I sniffed the air, trying to figure out what was going on. They all smelled of adrenaline and triumph, but also of fear. They were in a hurry, they didn't have much time.  
  
A young woman with pretty smelling hair came up to me; she put her weapon on the floor in front of me and put out her hand. She smelled sincere and healthy. We would be safe with these people; there would be no more torture.  
  
I pointed to Teemo and tried to get them to understand that he was almost dead. It took a little while, but they figured it out. I don't..."  
  
The translator droid sputtered and started speaking in gibberish. I sighed and turned off the machine.  
  
"I am sorry, Jeet. We don't have the most high tech equipment here. Please continue as best you can in Basic. What happened next?"  
  
"Yes, in Basic, young human. Rebels took Teemo and I to hospital. We got separated then, so busy they are fighting the Empire. Know not I what happened to him. Makes me very sad some days to think about him."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jeet."  
  
"Yes, yes. Still, I think galaxy is not so big, yes? Maybe one day Teemo come to Coruscant. Maybe he find me here and we be happy again."  
  
"I hope so, too. Well, thank you for your story, Jeet. I think that's all I need. If I have any more questions, may I contact you?"  
  
"Yes, young human. You lost fear smell when I told story. You are nice and may comm me with questions."  
  
She got up off the low couch and headed for the door as I paged the reception droid to let the next interview in.  
  
The doors slid open and an Ewok entered, leaning on a tall staff. The Ewok froze when he saw Jeet, and she, too, seemed well rooted in place.  
  
"Jeet?" the Ewok asked, obviously unsure whom he was addressing.  
  
"Teemo?" Jeet asked him back.  
  
A big grin spread over the Ewok's face, his large white teeth shining and a gleam in his eye. He moved forward and in a few quick steps, the two were face to face.  
  
"I missed you, Teemo. They not tell me where you at." Jeet's voice quavered.  
  
"It is big galaxy for small beings, Jeet. It easy to lose one of us." Teemo answered. "I missed you, too, as well."  
  
I never thought I would see a day like this. As I watched on, the Jawa shaman laughed just before the two of them fell into a huge hug. When they parted, they began talking to each other in some kind of mixed Jawa and Ewok language, the words crossing each other so quickly it was impossible for someone with my limited vocabulary to follow. They turned toward the door and started walking away, as if nothing else existed but their conversation.  
  
I chuckled as I watched them leave, silently wishing them the best and wondering when news would hit the holonet of the galaxy's first Jawa/Ewok marriage. 

  



	6. Had I Known Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young cadet is an open target for the rioting crowds on Coruscant when the Empire falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the OCWA 'What the hell happened?' challenge. I chose #36. Dress him in an Imperial cadet uniform during the anti-Imperial mob riots on Coruscant.

Title: Had I Known Then  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: end of RotJ  
Characters: OCs!  
Genre: drama  
Summary: A young cadet is an open target for the rioting crowds on Coruscant when the Empire falls.  
Disclaimer: This is not the author you're looking for.  
Notes: For the OCWA 'What the hell happened?' challenge. I chose #36. Dress him in an Imperial cadet uniform during the anti-Imperial mob riots on Coruscant.  
  


  
"Well, there's something you don't see every day." My CO stood there with his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, watching the crowd in the courtyard below.  
  
"Sir, isn't there something we should be doing?" I asked him, trying to emulate his calm tone as best I could in light of what was going on thirty floors down.  
  
I have to admit I was a bit surprised to see him so relaxed. I mean come on, there was an open riot going on right in front of us. He just stood there watching with a look on his face I'd never seen before. Granted, I wasn't much of a judge of his moods. I only graduated yesterday and hadn't even gotten my new uniform yet, still had my cadet's dress whites on, hat and all.  
  
"And what, Ensign Gam, do you think we should do in such a situation?" he asked, his tone still casual as his arm swept out in a wide arc, indicating the rioting civilians below.  
  
"Uhm, call the Stormtrooper battalion in guard station 1057-3B, sir?" I suggested the most obvious thing to come to mind; a feeling in my gut told me there was a reason the battalion was nowhere in sight.  
  
"You mean them?" Lieutenant Commander Devon pointed at a pile of rubble in the center of the square.  
  
I took a cautious step closer to the railing. Pulling out my electrobinoculars, I pointed them towards the destruction. A few moments before, the heap of duracrete stood tall and majestic, formed in the visage of Emperor Palpatine. The rioting crowds had pulled it down with big grappling cables. Heavens knew where they had gotten them; did civilians carry them around regularly on Coruscant? Through the binocs, I could see white armored arms and legs protruding out from under bits of the Emperor's head and torso. I dropped the binocs, letting them fall with a thud against my chest.  
  
"Oh. Yeah." was all I could muster in reply to the lieutenant's question.  
  
A loud explosion rocked the building where we had sought refuge when the riots started. It became clear about five minutes into the uprising that anyone in an Imperial uniform was a target. Lt. Devon was a great man as far as I could tell. He had been on leave when I was sent to meet up with him at one of the local clubs. He was in his civvies and could have saved himself when the fighting broke out, but instead he dragged us into this hotel. Reminding me that our strongholds would probably be the next thing the crowds went after when they were done with their effigy burning and statue toppling, he decided we should wait out the riots here. I wondered what my fellow graduates where doing right now and if they had superiors as clever as mine.  
  
"Better go check on the door." he told me as he disappeared into the darkened room.  
  
I nodded and when he was gone I just stood there on the balcony watching the neat and orderly world I knew crumble before my eyes. I joined the Imperial Navy hoping to get one of those lucrative scholarships they're always touting on the Holonet. My family wasn't poor, but I wanted to go to one of the big schools on Alderaan and transport alone was more than Da made in a year. This was supposed to be my ticket to a better life and here I was, possibly in mortal danger, on Coruscant of all places. They never tell you in the commercials that the Rebellion is capable of anything more than a minor uprising somewhere in the Outer Rim. I think someone at the Recruitment Office was off their rocker.  
  
I could hear blaster fire in the corridor outside our room and it seemed to be getting closer. I had my own blaster out by the time I crossed the threshold back inside. In the few seconds it took my eyes to adjust, the firing stopped and I now listened as a grating sound came from just outside the door. I thought I'd find the Lieutenant standing there, blaster primed and ready to go down with the ship, so to speak, but instead he was stripping off his clothes.  
  
"Sir? Shouldn't we be preparing some kind of defense here?" I wasn't sure what to make of my superior's actions.  
  
"Defense? You're kidding, right kid?" he stopped what he was doing and looked me dead in the eye. "There's only one way out of this, kid, and you're taking it."  
  
"Sir?" I couldn't understand what he was saying; I was a bit of a slow thinker back then.  
  
"They're after anybody in a uniform. That makes you a walking target." he pointed a finger at me. "Add to that the fact that this place is surrounded and even if you were to get out of the building in one piece, there's a crowd out there ready to eat you alive. And I mean that literally. I heard some very angry Wookie roars a while back."  
  
A shiver went down my spine. I knew it was bad out there, but until that point my inexperience shielded me from exactly how bad it really was. I was officially scared poodooless.  
  
"So there you have it, kiddo, and now there's just one chance to get you out of here alive. Strip. We're trading clothes." he returned to the task of removing his own clothes.  
  
"But, Sir," I argued, dim-witted as I was at the time. "If we do that, they'll just go after you."  
  
"That's right. You're gonna be my hostage and I'm going to be the badass Imp holding you prisoner." his face was grim, a mask of stoicism.  
  
"They'll kill you, why are you doing this?" My palms were sweating and my feet turned to lead under me. I felt like my head was swimming.  
  
Lt. Devon saw that I was losing it. He stomped over to me and grabbed my shoulders. "You've got a whole future ahead of you, kid. I've been through a lot, signed up young and wasted my life serving the Empire. You just promise me you're gonna go do something great with your life and it'll make it all worth while, got it?"  
  
I was numb. This man, who I hardly knew, was going to sacrifice his life for me. I looked out towards the balcony. The night sky was lit red with the flames from the rioting below, the scraping was louder than ever outside and there was a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"Get to it, Ensign. That's your final order." Lt. Devon shook me again and I came out of my stupor.  
  
Nodding dumbly, I quickly stripped down and switched clothes with the man whose face would haunt me for the rest of my life.  
  
The door came crashing in just as we finished our setup, me in a pair of binders, him with a blaster to my head. It all happened so fast; I barely remember what was said. There was a lot of yelling and they separated us, dragging me from the room in a daze. We were at the end of the hall waiting for the turbolift when I heard a blaster fire. One single shot and I knew it was over. My knees buckled under me and I heard my new "friends" tell each other it must be the stress of my captivity.  
  
I was rushed from there to a med center, checked for injuries and shuffled back out into the street without even having my name taken. I still had Lt. Devon's wallet in my pocket; guess he didn't worry about keeping it. There were enough credits in there to get me on a transport home. I didn't have any of my gear, my own papers or anything, but with all the insanity going on, nobody looked at me twice when I boarded the ship for home.  
  
And that's my story. Take it or leave it. What happens after that is of little consequence. Life went on as it does, you know the rest.  
I hope this helps your research. If you could please send me a copy of the book when it comes out, I'd like that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a sizeable stack of essays to grade.


	7. Waiting for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan appears to Yoda for the first time after his death.

Title: Waiting for the Future  
Author: Jennifer_Lyn  
Characters: Ghostie Obi-Wan and Yoda  
Genre: Vignette  
Summary: Obi-Wan appears to Yoda for the first time after his death.  
Disclaimer: Oh George, we all know it's yours.  
  


  
Quiet rustlings filled the moist, heavy air as a multitude of tiny beings buzzed and crawled from place to place. Life continued on in its infinite variety on the small, swampy planet. Here death was not an ending, leading instead to beginnings as the molds and fungi quickly turned fallen matter into soil, regeneration nurturing new life from the old. Holding fast, it was here that the last remnants of an old religion lay hidden, waiting until it, too, could grow anew.  
  
Sitting as if it had been rooted there since the beginning of time, a small mud hut huddled in a clearing beneath the canopy of gargantuan trees that surrounded it. A warm yellow light glowed from under the door and out of a single open window, speaking of comfort and warmth to any who might come by, though there were none around to visit. Outside of this homely domicile, a diminutive, green being sat upon a rotting log, his eyes closed in meditation, a faint smile upon his face.  
  
Coalescing from a faint glimmer, a blue glowing visage appeared next to him, clarifiying into the form of an aged man. The figure wore comfortable, if shabby, robes that echoed the dress of the being in repose next to him. The visage looked about the clearing, taking in the threadbare clothing of small being, the humid, oppressive temperature of the air around him and the small hovel a short distance away.  
  
"Master Yoda?" the ghost greeted the humble creature.  
  
Opening his eyes, Yoda nodded his acknowledgment and smiled at the spectre. "Yes, I am here. Waiting for you a long time, I have been. Wondering if lost in the Force you were."  
  
The figure shrugged his faint shoulders, a small flash of regret passing over his face. "Time passes differently when one is within the Force. It is as nothing I have ever experienced before."  
  
"Heh. Aged you, it did, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Look as good as I, you do not." Yoda chuckled, his eyes bright with mischief.  
  
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan smiled, "No, Master. I do not, though it was all that blasted sun that did this to me, not the Force."  
  
Yoda shifted his position and his face became more serious. "Qui-Gon's training has served you well if return from the Force you have."  
  
"Yes, Master. Though I can no longer find him within the Force to speak with him, thank him." Obi-Wan's tone was tinged with melancholy. "It seems his mission is complete and he is truly gone."  
  
"Hrm. Sad news, that is, although happy for Master Qui-Gon, I am." the aged Master nodded his head, his lips crinkling in a pondering frown.  
  
A silence fell between them for a moment, each remembering the long-gone Jedi. In teaching them of the Wills, Qui-Gon had passed on a secret the Sith had been seeking for centuries. Obi-Wan remembered his amusement as his Master's ghost explained the state of limbo he now found himself in as the only true path to immortality, from a certain point of view.  
  
Interrupting his thoughts, Yoda caught the ghostly Jedi's attention. "Come to me now, you have. Why is this, Obi-Wan?"  
  
The glowing form shifted, hesitating to present his true reason for appearing. "I felt you should know what our efforts have wrought. Luke is growing stronger in the Force. He continues to train, even without my aid."  
  
Yoda nodded his head, his brow furrowing into a map of high peaks and deep valleys. "Yes. Watch him often, I do. Headstrong, like his father. Concerned for the future of this boy, I am."  
  
"He works hard, though I gave him little in the way of tools to work with, and he progresses quickly." Obi-Wan smiled, thoughts of Luke's steady progress flashing through his mind.  
  
"Go to him. Send him to me, you must. Much yet to learn, he has, before he faces his father." Yoda's voice betrayed his anxiousness to contribute to galactic goings on once again. Eighteen years of waiting while the Empire grew unhindered tried even the aged Master's patience.  
  
Obi-Wan made a calming motion with his transparent hand. "Yes, when the time is right, I will appear to him, but we must not rush things."  
  
The comment only furthered Yoda's agitation. "Time? Too much time, already, has been wasted.” he insisted, punctuating the remark by thwaking his walking stick upon the log. “The boy should come now, continue his training under more experienced eyes."  
  
A flash of hurt passed over Obi-Wan's face at the jab, but he quickly brushed the old wounds of his failures aside and continued. Dwelling on the past would do none of them any good. "He needs to understand the world a little better first, Master. He grew up on a farm on Tatooine under the guiding hand of his family. There is much naivete in him."  
  
"Hrmph. Makes him vulnerable to the Dark side, that does. Perhaps mistaken we were in sending you both to the desert planet." Yoda settled further into his seat, dissatisfaction written on his face as he poked with his gimmer stick at a soft spot of rot.  
  
"Master?" Obi-Wan asked, puzzled by the comment.  
  
Yoda reached out as if to putting a comforting hand on his visitor's arm, but pulled it back remembering there was nothing solid to touch. Realizing fully that the other had died in order to gain this form, a sadness weighed up the last of the Old Republic Jedi. Distracted by the thought, he did not respond to the query.  
  
“We had no other choice, I had to go watch over the boy.” Obi-Wan's voice holding the man's usual stoicism and acceptence, Yoda still sensed the fine ribbon of doubt that plagued the younger Jedi during those dark days.  
  
Laying that final burden on Obi-Wan was one of the few true regrets of the old Master's life. "If another Jedi had survived, send the boy with them, I would have. You have had enough suffering for such a short life."  
  
"What's done is done, Master." Obi-Wan sighed, releasing the dark memories into the Force as a graceful smile passed over his lips. "We cannot change the past and we do not yet know that we made a mistake. Luke was raised in a strict but loving household. He will react to the world in a different way than a youngling who was Temple raised."  
  
Crossing his arms over his chest, Yoda's voice turned stern once more. "Hrmph. Enjoy that thought, I do not. The tradition of the Jedi, he will not be able to uphold."  
  
"Perhaps the galaxy is ready for a new kind of Jedi." Obi-Wan offered, his own tone gentle as he braced himself for the coming rebuke.  
  
"Ohh.” the green being's voice sang through the syllable. “A new kind of Jedi? Attached, you have become to this boy." Yoda pointed a finger at the ghostly Jedi beside him. "Child of your Padawan he is and you feel responsible for him. Hmm?"  
  
Obi-Wan reflected for a moment before meeting the old Master's eyes with new strength. "Yes, Master, I have become attached to him. How could I not? He is so like Anakin in his energy. He shines so brightly within the Force that it could blind you. And he is a good young man with a strong heart."  
  
Looking hurt at the rejection of his chiding, Yoda's voice was less sure now. "Did the Jedi before you teach you nothing? Throw all their discipline aside, would you?"  
  
"No, Master. Not at all." Obi-Wan reassured him as he stood and walked around a little before continuing. The movement helped to ground him in the present, connecting him to the physical realm and letting his words come with ease. "The galaxy has changed, I can see that now more clearly than ever before. I believe Anakin may be bringing about the Balance in ways we never could have foreseen. There are forces at work that we can only imagine and I believe his children may hold the key to all of this."  
  
"Hrmph. Perhaps right, you are." Yoda relented the point, filing the information away for later meditation.  
  
Silence fell between them once more before Yoda's ears perked up and he smiled.  
  
"Know this, did you, that Qui-Gon once thought you the Chosen One?"  
  
"Me, Master? Surely not." The idea itself was not surprising. His Master was always on the look out for the child of prophecy, but thinking that Qui-Gon believed him to be that child was hard to believe considering the difficult start to their relationship.  
  
Yoda nodded, a sage and satisfied grin upon his face. "Mmmm. Yes. Knew you had a large part to play in our fates, he did.” The grin faded to a thin frown. “Foresee this destiny though, none of us could."  
  
"Even if we had, I wonder if it would have been right to stop it?" Obi-Wan mused aloud.  
  
Shaking his head emphatically, Yoda cut his companion's point short. "Speaking of such possibilities, unnecessary it is, Obi-Wan. The Force will allow us to see or not. Our place to change the past it is not. It is to the future that we must look."  
  
Agreeing easily, the ghostly Master nodded. "And we will do as we must, Master Yoda. It is up to the will of the Force now. All we can do is play our parts."  
  
"Mmm. Wise you have become, Obi-Wan Kenobi. A great Jedi Master, you truly are." Yoda watched as the Jedi's form began to fade, taking solace in the knowledge that he, like his rebellious Master before him, would return soon, that they may continue to watch the future unfold together.  
  
"Thank you, my little friend." Obi-Wan laughed, his grin bright even as the last of his gossamer form slipped away with the breeze.  
  
"Hrmph. Little friend!" Yoda's face showed exaggerated shock that soon faded into a peaceful smile as he nodded in return. "Yes, you are welcome. My friend."


	8. Her Mother's Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veela gets a chance to contact her deceased mother and learns some important information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike my last challenge entry, this took a bit o' research. As far as I know, it's all canon safe!

Title: Her Mother's Voice   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Many, many, many years BBY!  
Characters: 3 OCs!  
Genre: Drama  
Summary: Veela gets a chance to contact her deceased mother and learns some important information.  
Notes: Unlike my last challenge entry, this took a bit o' research. As far as I know, it's all canon safe!  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  
  
  


Walking with as much confidence as she could muster, a young, dark haired woman moved quietly down the dimly lit street. The lower levels of Coruscant were notorious throughout the galaxy for being some of the most dangerous territory around, still, here she was, strolling down the narrow lanes, squinting her eyes in search of her elusive quarry. When she descended past the middle levels a few hours ago, it was just past noon, but here in the depths, even the bright afternoon sun barely trickled down, leaving these levels in perpetual twilight.  
  
Finally recognizing the district she was looking for, her pace quickened. Hope was slim that the being she searched for would even be alive, never mind still living in the same place, but a small, tight smile appeared on her face when she saw the old woman putting out plates of food for the alley felines that circled her feet.  
  
“Greetings, Grannie Hella.” She called out to the elderly figure. “I’ve come to speak with you and… I need to speak to someone else as well.”  
  
The grey-haired woman did not acknowledge the younger one, but went about her task as if no one was around. Having been well instructed on how to approach Grannie, the young woman waited, squatting down to pet the striped feline that was rubbing her ankle.  
  
“Name, girl?” came a short, croaky question.  
  
“Veela Umbeki, madam.” She replied in her most polite, posh Coruscanti.  
  
“Hrmph. Tamora’s child. I know what you want then. You chose the proper evening, too. Good thinking, girl.” She gave a very heavy sigh and stood to look Veela in the eye. She was taller than Veela expected and her back showed no signs of bowing with her age.  
  
Grannie rattled on in her thick voice, “Work’s never done for your clan, is it? You’ll be needing to know there’ll be others wantin’ to speak with you, too. Not just yer Mum. Come on then, and don’t let any of these critters in the door, they’ll wreck the whole thing.”  
  
Veela nodded her understanding and followed the woman inside a rusty door, carefully closing it behind her so none of the felines snuck in. The tight corridors of the ancient building gave off the stale scent of mildew and decay. Following Grannie closely, she soon found herself in a dingy, but neat dining area with a large, dark wood table in the center.  
  
The old woman brushed her hands on her apron to clean them, then moved about the space, clapping three times in each corner before returning to the doorway. “Well, we’ll be needin’ a right, proper meal for this. What you got in that basket?”  
  
Veela placed on the table a large basket she’d been carrying and opened the lid so Grannie could see inside. Various containers were stacked neatly inside and the light aroma of gourmet cooking wafted out of the cramped hamper.  
  
“Yes, good. That’ll do nicely. Ever been through one of these before?” Grannie questioned. Veela shook her head and the old woman cackled. “No? Your Mum taught you proper, though.” She reached up and pinched Veela’s cheek softly. "Let’s get started then. Night will be falling soon. And remember, no talkin’ til you get the sign or I tell ya so.”  
  
The two women set to work in silence as they spread a black cloth across the table. Grannie pulled out heavy, black place settings from the cupboard as Veela removed the sturdy black anodized utensils from a box on the sideboard. The table completely set, the food was unpacked and heated through in the small kitchen. After placing the bowls and platters on the table, Grannie and Veela sat across from each other, leaving the head of the table empty and shrouded in dark fabric.  
  
At a signal from Grannie, Veela served the dessert onto the three dishes. Though her nerves turned it to sawdust in her mouth, Veela politely ate her entire serving. She watched Grannie closely, but the old woman simply ate her food with a comfortable smile, obviously enjoying the decadant layer cake. The main course came next; meat so tender it melted on the tongue accompanied by herb-dressed vegetables and soft, boiled tubers. Again, Veela watched for any signs from Grannie, but the woman was obviously relaxed and enjoying the rare treat.  
  
As Veela was about to ladle some brothy soup into Grannie’s bowl, the old woman’s arm shot out and grabbed her hand, pointing to the end of the table. Stunned, Veela looked at the place setting and watched as a thread of mist rose from the plate and coalesced into a glowing, blue ball of light hovering over the chair. Next, a similar thread from the meat joined its bretheren and Grannie quickly motioned for Veela to serve the soup.  
  
By the time the bowls were filled, the hazy, yet visible features of Tamora Umbeki solidified into form. She looked down at her hands, then glanced around the room and smiled.  
  
“Veela, I did well in my instructions if we are seated here today.” The warmth of her smile brought long-dried tears to Veela’s eyes. “Yes, my dear, you may speak now, but do not allow your soup to grow cold.” the woman indicated with a gesture that Veela should continue eating.  
  
Unable to help herself, Veela let the soup spoon fall from her grasp. “Mother, I’ve missed you so! All these long years, I’ve wanted to talk to you, but knew I had to wait. I…” the words were almost a sob, but Veela took a breath. She knew their time was limited and there was much to say. “I have news.” She hesitated and her mother gave her a knowing smile.  
  
“It’s a child, isn’t it?” Tamora spoke softly to her crying daughter.  
  
“Yes.” She returned the smile. “I shall name her Nomi, after Nomidan, your mother.”  
  
The smile brightened on Tamora’s pale lips. “It is a good name and she well do well by it.” the translucent figure continued, regret in her tone. “I am sorry I cannot be there to give the proper Lifetelling, my child. All I can Tell you is this, she will forge her own path. Her ways are not to be our clan’s ways. When she is grown, a man will come who rides the sun. He will give her great joy and great pain, but he is the key to her destiny. You must not bar that path.”  
  
Torn between joy and grief, tears streamed down Veela’s face. “And am I to maintain the traditional silence, even through she leaves the clan?”  
  
“Yes, daughter. She will not understand why you let her go so easily, for she shall be young, but the Lifetelling is only for the mother to know. It is the burden of our clan.” Her voice grew weaker with each word as her figure lost its strength and clarity.  
  
“Mother!” Veela cried out as Tamora’s figure faded quickly from its place in the chair.  
  
“I can always hear you, child, just speak and I will know.” Came the final echo of a whisper as the last of the strange blue light faded to nothing in the dim room.  
  
Veela slumped back into her chair, placing a protective hand over the slight bulge on her abdomen as she did so. Silence once again took hold in the room for quite some time, though it now lacked the heady excitement that charged it before.  
  
Once Veela’s tears dried, Grannie finally spoke, softly and with a clearer tone than Veela remembered her possessing. “It is done, then. The course has been set. Sunrider shall rise and Stardrifter shall inherit and all shall give way to Skywalker.”  
  
Veela stared at the woman and made a sign of blessing toward her.  
  
“Oh, don’t waste you’re time with that, child. I’m not possessed by some Demon from Iego. These old bones know things, is all. ‘Tis my fate, young one. I’ve watched it all come and I’ll watch it all fall. Some would say it don’t make life worth livin’, knowing how it ends, but I just can’t wait to see how it all plays out. I’ll be there when he does it, I’ll watch those twins grow and I’ll be there when he returns to the Force.”  
  
Grannie reached across the table and took Veela’s hand, gently patting it to calm the young woman, garnering a weak smile in return. “Now, if you’ve had enough of a break, let’s finish this lovely meal and see who else turns up, eh?”  
  
Veela gave her a hesitant smile as both women dipped into the warm, soothing soup and watched in wonder as the seat at the head of the table glimmered bright blue in the darkness once more.


	9. Colds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two brave Jedi are laid low by the common cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in a mush drought and then I caught a cold. Write what you know! Not my best work, by far, but what do you expect from a virus-addled brain?

Title: Colds  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Pre-TPM, of course  
Characters: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan  
Genre: Mush  
Summary: Our two brave Jedi are laid low by the common cold.  
Notes: I was in a mush drought and then I caught a cold. Write what you know! Not my best work, by far, but what do you expect from a virus-addled brain?  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  
  
  


Coughing sounds came through the open door. Morning light brightened the bedroom as Qui-Gon rolled over, catching the rasping sound out of the corner of his hazy mind. Obi-Wan was sick. The teenager had not looked well the night before and now Qui-Gon’s fears had come to fruition. Throwing back the covers, he sat up quickly, but froze when the room began to spin.  
  
“Oh, no.” he groaned, unable to help uttering the words aloud.  
  
“I’m sorry, Master,” a hoarse, young voice came through the door. Obi-Wan poked his head in. “Did I wake you?”  
  
“Not at all, young one.” Qui-Gon grimaced. He could feel it now that sleep had cleared from his mind. His throat felt raw and his sinuses pushed against his eye sockets, making his vision cloudy. As if on cue, a stream of coughs racked his large form. “It would seem we are in the same gravsled.”  
  
“I just commed the Healers, Master. I’ll contact them again and have them send double doses of whatever they’ve got.” Obi-Wan disappeared from the room, coughs punctuating his departure.  
  
Qui-Gon stood to dress himself. He had gotten his sleep pants off when the weariness of the chore took hold of him and he plopped back down on the bed. He sat for a moment, contemplating his options.  
  
‘Not much choice, really.’ He thought.  
  
Gathering the strength of the Force around him in order to accomplish the small goal, he went to the dresser, pulled out fresh sleep pants, a clean tunic and donned them as best he could once he resumed his sitting position on the bed. A loud crash from the outer rooms jarred him from the stupor he fell into after dressing.  
  
“Obi-Wan, are you alright?” he called out and then wheezed for a moment, the exertion leaving his congested lungs struggling for a moment.  
  
“Yes, Master.” Came an equally wheezy reply. “Just dropped … tea kettle.”  
  
With a sigh, Qui-Gon stood and, grabbing a robe from his small closet, shuffled into the common room.  
  
“Can I help, Padawan?” he spoke softly, leaning on the counter that separated the kitchen area from the larger living space.  
  
“I think I’ve got the kettle under control now, Master.” Obi-Wan’s cloudy eyes met the large Jedi’s. The usually cool, clear gaze was bloodshot and red-rimmed. “Could you get the mugs?” he asked quietly, looking to the high shelf where the cups were kept.  
  
Qui-Gon simply nodded and slowly moved to the shelf. “Breakfast, Padawan?” he questioned.  
  
“Not hungry. How about you?” the young man answered.  
  
“No, me either.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping as they worked together to pour the tea.  
  
Three standard minutes crawled by as they waited for the tea to brew. When finally it was done, they made their way, leaning on each other, to the couch. Having just settled in, they looked questioningly at each other when a chime came from the door. Obi-Wan smirked as he watched his Master use the Force to open the door.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that, Padawan. I would not call that a trivial use of the Force.” He glared at his young charge. “Unless you would prefer to get up and let our visitor in?”  
  
At the teasing admonishment, Obi-Wan sunk himself further into the couch, eyes widened as he shook his head. A med droid came into the room, pushing a cart. It was followed by two more droids with a couch. After moving the two chairs that usually resided along one wall, the droids placed the couch in their place and left the apartment.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Qui-Gon questioned the med droid. “We do not need a second couch.”  
  
The tinny voice of the droid answered succinctly, “The Healers suggested that you and your Padawan would be more comfortable this way. The virus you have contracted must run its course. They have provided supplements, soup and juices to aid your recovery. Feel better and comm the Healers if you are in need of further assistance.”  
  
It’s duty done, the droid quickly left the room. Obi-Wan turned to his Master. “So what shall we do until we feel better, Master? I don’t think I could meditate right now if I tried.”  
  
“Well, we could get our blankets. Surely that is enough of a chore at the moment.” He grinned as he watched his apprentice drag the med droid’s cart toward him with the Force. “Not so trivial now, is it, my young Padawan?”  
  
Working together to they cleared the cart, placing the thermal carafes of soup and juices on the short table in front of the couch. Next to these they placed the bottles of vitamin tabs and a few boxes of tissues. This task complete, they took turns leaning on the cart as each went to his room and gathered blankets, pillows and datapads. When Qui-Gon returned from his room he sat on the couch heavily and looked at Obi-Wan.  
  
The young man sat cross-legged, one blanket wrapped around his shoulders, another over his lap, a datapad in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. The only sign that this picture of idle comfort was not as it seemed was the glazed look in the Padawan’s eyes.  
  
“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon called to him. Receiving no reply, he tried again, a little sharper. “Padawan!”  
  
Obi-Wan jumped, almost spilling his tea. “Hmn? Oh, sorry. Yes, Master?”  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. “What’s got your attention, young one?”  
  
“Oh, I can’t really think through this cloud in my head, Master. I was just taking stock of my symptoms.”  
  
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow “Anything unusual I should know about?”  
  
“Well, only that my skin feels weird. Almost like it’s not my own.”  
  
Qui-Gon nodded knowingly. “It’s been some time since you’ve had such a simple illness. I remember when you were little, you would tell me the same thing.”  
  
Obi-Wan gave a weak smile. A comfortable silence then fell between them and Qui-Gon set about making himself comfortable on the couch, mirroring his Padawan’s arrangement. Quiet reigned in the room for quite some time before Obi-Wan put his datapad down on the table and stretched himself on the couch and fell asleep.  
  
Qui-Gon smiled as he watched the sun glint off the boy’s hair. Through all of those tough and trying missions he had somehow managed to raise a fine young Jedi, a good man and a son of his heart. It was with these pleasant thoughts that he, too, lay down to nap in the afternoon sun.  
  
Both awoke a few hours later and sat up, accompanied by much sniffling and sneezing.  
  
“Feeling any better, Padawan, mine?” Qui-Gon questioned his companion as he blew his nose for the tenth time.  
  
“No, Master, you?” Obi-Wan replied.  
  
“No.” Qui-Gon shrugged. “Come over here by me. We need to eat some of this soup. It will aid the healing process.”  
  
Obi-Wan grunted as he trundled, blankets and all, from one couch to the other. The steam from the soup cleared their groggy heads slightly and gave a small boost of much-desired energy. When they had eaten their full, the bowls were piled on the table and they sat back, leaning on one another.  
  
“Here, Obi-Wan, hand me that controller.” Qui-Gon pointed to the table. Obi-Wan passed him the small remote. “I thought of something we might enjoy doing while we wait for this nasty business to pass.” Qui-Gon grinned as he pressed a button.  
  
A holovid began playing and Obi-Wan turned to his Master with a grin. “Vids and pictures from our early missions? Master, where did you dig these up from?”  
  
Qui-Gon grinned back, “I’ve been collecting them the whole time, young one.”  
  
They settled comfortably and watched, sometimes laughing, sometimes somber, as each mission played in their memories, prompted by the flow of images. Qui-Gon lost himself in the adventures he and his Padawan lived through in their daily lives. When the last image, a successful mission from last year, faded from the holoreader, he put the remote on the table. Obi-Wan was curled against him, sound asleep. Qui-Gon pulled the blankets more efficiently around them both and drowsily watched day fade into night outside the large transparisteel window. Morning would bring better health and their routine would return to its normal rate of chaos, but as he fell asleep, his hand gently resting on Obi-Wan’s head, he took comfort in the quiet the day had brought them and the joy and pride that filled his heart.


	10. Amnesty and Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is sent to Naboo as destiny begins to catch up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never wrote AU before. It was quite fun and I quickly found that the constraints of a vignette won't do this justice. I'll be putting this on the "to be completed" pile.

Title: Amnesty and Second Chances  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: AU during the RotS time period.  
Characters: Obi-Wan and lots of other folk!  
Genre: Drama  
Summary: Ben is sent to Naboo as destiny begins to catch up with him.  
Notes: Never wrote AU before. It was quite fun and I quickly found that the constraints of a vignette won't do this justice. I'll be putting this on the "to be completed" pile.  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  
  


  
Datapads of various sizes, models and ages were strewn across the battered durasteel desk. Flimsiplast filled a small waste bin to overflowing and a small fan stood atop a false wood-grained shelf. Glaring artificial light shone down on everything in the small office, including the slim, bearded man on the rickety chair behind the desk.  
  
He lifted his head quickly and sat still as if waiting for something. There was a knock on the door just before it slid open with a jerky motion on its uneven runners. A woman with silvery grey hair, coiffed neatly on her head, peeked into the room.  
  
“Message just came in, Ben. Do you want me to forward it to your unit? It looks urgent.” Seeing she already had his attention, she stepped slowly into the room, limping slightly.  
  
“Yes, please, Gladeria. Is it the Tatooine situation?” he pointed at the chair near the door, but she waved him off as she always did.  
  
“I think it is. How do you always know these things, dear boy? It’s almost like magic.” She shook her head at him in resigned disbelief.  
  
“It’s the Force, Glad, after all these years you know that.” He smiled at her warmly, mischief gleaming in his eyes.  
  
She sighed and plopped into the chair as he knew she would. “Well, doesn’t really matter what it is, you still have the touch, my boy. Now if only you would use it to find someone nice to settle down with, I’d sleep better at night.”  
  
“Oh, Glad. You know that you and this posh job are my only true loves.” He laughed, indicating the shabby workspace. Being non-for-profit meant a lot of making due with less than ideal materials and conditions.  
  
“Even so.” She wagged a finger at him as she rose and disappeared out of the door.  
  
Ben Kenobi smiled as his assistant stood and trundled off. _‘Someday we’ll splurge and get an inter-room comm unit so she doesn’t have to keep getting up on that bad leg all the time.’_ He thought with a hint of frustration.  
  
A moment later his personal comm unit beeped at him. He clicked the message and heard the familiar voice of his mentor, Sontag Liederi coming through the static. The older man sounded even more enthusiastic than usual and Ben could easily picture the Chandrillian’s gesticulating hands waving over his head.  
  
“Hey, Ben! Big news! There’s been a slave revolt on Tatooine! It’s a small one, but it might be enough to finally get the Senate’s attention. The Nubians have offered the slaves asylum and the revolt’s leader is on planet there. You know what that means, my boy! Go bring him back to Coruscant if you can. If we can get the right testimony we might make some headway for once. The Jedi are sending a delegate as well. Don’t know who yet, but I’m hoping for a Council member. I’ll comm you when I get more details. Good luck!”  
  
Shutting off the comm, Ben sat back in his chair with a grin on his face. This sounded like the big one, the event they had been working for every day for the last twenty years. Letting Glad know she would have the next week or so off, he began packing the items he would need from the office. Once all was settled there, he headed for the spaceport, stopping by his small apartment to grab the compact bag he always kept packed for emergencies. As he walked he reflected on the string of unlikely events that led him to this point.  
  
The Galactic Amnesty Organization was in its infancy when Ben joined it. After wandering the galaxy, using his Force talents to get by when he could, a fateful landing on Melida/Daan got him involved with the Young movement there. His childhood Jedi training had allowed him to help smooth the talks between the warring factions and was instrumental in bringing about the peace that still thrived on the prosperous planet now known as Melidaan. Sontag Liederi arrived to lend the support of the foundling Planetary Amnesty Group that would later become the GAO. He was willing to work with the Young and took their demands seriously throughout the negotiations, leaving quite an impression on the teenaged former Initiate.  
  
When Sontag left the planet to support a slave uprising, Ben went with him, having found a direction for his copious energy and developing moral compass. Often returning to Melidaan to visit friends, he considered it home for many years, remaining especially close to the young woman, Cerasi who, after leading the Young, served the planet as Senator and later Prime Minister. Many thought she and Ben would marry one day before her contraction of Katan’s disease cut that dream short.  
  
With the woman he loved gone from his life, Ben threw himself completely into his work. Gaining reknown as “The Negotiator” on many systems, he made himself a thorn in the side of the Senate. He led the GAO in confronting the stagnant, old governing body on being’s rights issues that they chose to ignore in order to preserve easy flow of commerce and valuable trade agreements.  
  
Now, it would seem, their opportunity to make a major move had presented itself. With some luck, and the Force to guide him, Ben hoped that this recent uprising would let him blow the door open on the slave trade that ran rampant in the Outer Rim. Due to the Hutt’s firm control over many of the systems, the Senate had been hesitant to even acknowledge the trade existed and without a formal inquiry, the vaunted Jedi, protectors of the galaxy, would not be engaged to stop the practice.  
  
Upon boarding the small, old GAO cruiser he would fly to Naboo, Ben found a message waiting for him on the onboard comm unit. Again Sontag’s voice, rich and warm, though not up to its usual vigor, came through the speaker.  
  
“Hope you get this before you get into hyperspace, Ben. I’ve got some information for you to chew on. Found out the Jedi are sending Qui-Gon Jinn. Sorry, lad. Looks like we’re being torpedoed again. Do what you can, there’s still a chance that the slave leader’s testimony will be enough to make our point. Good luck, and may that Force you call on be with you.”  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn. This was not quite the news Ben wanted to hear and his buoyant mood plummeted. He liked Qui-Gon, a good and passionate man who shared many of the GAO’s ideals, but he was a rebel within the Order, outspoken and always with one foot on his way out of the Temple for good. While well loved by many who knew him, Master Qui-Gon was not well respected by those whose attention the GAO fought so hard to get.  
  
With this development weighing heavily on his mind, Ben smoothly maneuvered the ship out of the cacophony that was the Coruscanti traffic grid. As soon as he was cleared by traffic control, Ben set his course for Naboo and entered hyperspace. With the ship on autopilot, he moved to his small cabin and settled in a comfortable position on the blue cushion that traveled with him everywhere. He closed his eyes and reached into the Force, his constant companion and dearest friend.  
  
The anger of his youth resulted in his rejection as a Padawan learner many years ago, but time had passed and fortune smiled down on him as he found new directions and new passions to help him to work through that fury. Through it all, he never let his Force connection fade and with time and practice he had come to depend on its guidance in the delicate negotiations he was now so often called on to mediate.  
  
The swirling mists of the Force parted before his inner eyes and surprised him as he found a new pattern emerging. Curious as to where it would lead, he followed the path as far as he could and found that his current journey to Naboo was about to open a new set of branches in the Force. Potential futures threaded off in all directions. Change was coming. Big change. Relaxed in his exploration, Ben was rocked to his core as he felt the path he had followed his whole life slam closed behind him. Stunned, he wandered in the strange new mists around him, now lost in the flow of time.  
  
Eyes slowly opening, the shift in his mind was so enormous Ben swore he should not be sitting in the same place where he had begun his meditation, yet there he was. The same cushion was under him and the same four walls enclosed him. Rising with a stiffness his usually flexible body was unaccustomed to experiencing, he heard the beeping of the autopilot and wondered what would cause it to go off so early. He had only just sat down a few minutes ago, it would be impossible to be at Naboo already. Yet when he reached the deck the ship was pulling itself out of hyperspace and the beautiful, watery world of Naboo filled the viewport.  
  
_‘How long was I lost in the Force, then?’_ his mind was still clouded by vision and he found it difficult to adjust to the new intensity that curled in eddies in the Force around him. Doing his best to shake off his confusion, Ben responded to the hails of Naboo air traffic control and followed the coordinates they provided.  
  
Upon landing, he was greeted by a small contingent of Nubian officials who brought him to the grand palace near the waterfalls of Theed. Before Queen Jamilla, he presented his intentions to take the rebel leader to Coruscant. The Nubian government officially pronounced that the slaves were under their protection with a proclamation of amnesty and Ben was granted an audience with the leader. A young handmaiden led him to the quiet section in a far corner of the palace where the slaves had been given luxurious quarters.  
  
‘Small reparation for all of their suffering’ Ben thought with bitterness.  
  
He was shown into a small antechamber, beautifully appointed with soft draperies and sumptuous benches. He stood waiting but a moment before a woman with graying hair and sparkling eyes came through the sliding door opposite the entrance.  
  
“Hello, I am Shmi Skywalker.” She greeted him warmly. “My son, the Tul’tanek, has been waiting for you anxiously.”  
  
“Greetings, milady.” He returned the warm greeting.  
  
“Oh, my.” Shmi blushed. “I’m no milady, sir. I’m just a simple woman feeling very out of her depth in such grandeur. Please, Shmi is fine.”  
  
He laughed good naturedly with her before continuing. “I am Ben Kenobi. I’m with the GAO, you know of us?” offered his hand.  
  
“Yes, of course I do. We were hoping the ‘Negotiator’ would come.” She returned the gesture with her own calloused, firm handshake.  
  
“You called your son the Tul’tanek, lady?” Ben’s head was suddenly pounding with waves of premonition from the Force. It made thinking clearly more of a challenge than he cared to admit.  
  
“Yes, it means ‘The Hero Without Fear’.” She informed him and a shiver ran down his spine, though he could not say why. “It is what his fellow slaves have named him.”  
  
“And you said he has been waiting for me?” Confusion was beginning to edge its way into the calm façade he fought to maintain on his face.  
  
“Oh yes,” came the enthusiastic reply. “He’s been waiting for this meeting for a long time.” Now she hesitated a brief moment as if coming to a decision before revealing some secret. “You see, he knows things, has visions you might say, and he has seen you coming for many years.”  
  
At her words, a wave of power from the Force nearly knocked him off his feet. This was why he was here. The slaves, yes, of course he was here to help them, but this young man was the reason he had been brought here. The growing well of joy in his heart bolstered his spirit and cleared his head.  
  
“Well, let’s not keep him waiting any longer, shall we?” he responded with a charming smile, offering his arm to the older woman as they went through the large door.  
  
A young man rose smoothly from the soft green couch and crossed the room to greet them. He grasped Ben by the arm with his left hand as he shook the elder man’s right.  
  
“Hi, I’m Anakin Skywalker. Nice to finally meet you, sir.” 


	11. A Passing Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi and Qui spend a quiet morning together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for my Padawan, Stella_Ripple's birthday. Hope it's a good one, kiddo!

Title: A Passing Moment   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Pre-TPM  
Characters: Obi and Qui  
Genre: Mush, AU  
Summary: Obi and Qui spend a quiet morning together.  
Notes: This was written for my Padawan, Stella_Ripple's birthday. Hope it's a good one, kiddo!  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  


  
  
Qui-Gon peeked into the room of his sleeping Padawan and smiled in the dim, early morning light. Spiky reddish hair stuck out of a cocoon of fabric that entangled pairs of arms and legs at odd angles. Quietly approaching the sleeping form, Qui-Gon pulled himself up short as the slumbering mass emitted a sudden moan, flailed its arms about briefly and turned over.  
  
The large man with the long, chestnut hair chuckled softly and began to gently untangle his young charge from his self-imposed prison. Not once did the boy wake and when the task was finally complete Qui-Gon smoothed the youngster’s Padawan braid down and crept quietly out of the room.  
  
The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon of Coruscant, the lines of traffic still thin and scattered as the daily rush of aircars slowly got up to its usual frantic pace. Qui-Gon sat down in front of the large window in the common room of the apartment he shared with Obi-Wan. Large pillows had been placed on the floor in front of it for morning and evening meditations, their centers indented from hours upon hours of sitting.  
  
Qui-Gon’s large, dark green cushion had been a gift from Tahl when he took Obi-Wan as his Padawan a decade before. It was well broken in and facilitated Qui-Gon’s ease in meditation with it’s comfortable familiarity. Next to it sat a smaller blue cushion. It was in much better condition than his own despite the fact that two seats were the same age. Ratty edges were neatly and regularly repaired where he had allowed his to grow thread bare and ragged.  
  
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached into the Living Force and lost himself in the beauty of each moment, as he had been led to do his entire life. After a little while, he heard a rustle of fabric and felt a presence join him in the ebb and flow of the Force. It was fuzzy around the edges and reached toward him through a silvery thread that connected him to it. It slowly began to clarify and strengthen as time passed and the meditation grew deeper.  
  
The sun had risen above the horizon when Qui-Gon opened his eyes and met the ocean blue spheres that now sought his own.  
  
“Good morning, Padawan.” He said softly.  
  
“Good morning, Master” Came the warm reply.  
  
“It’s good to be home, isn’t it?” Qui-Gon asked as he stretched his long legs before him.  
  
“Yes, it most definitely is!” The boy’s voice was enthusiastic and bright.  
  
Obi-Wan rose from his neat, blue cushion and padded softly into the kitchenette he shared with his Master. Qui-Gon sighed warmly as he listened to the familiar song his Padawan hummed while preparing their morning tea. There was more rustling about in the panty than usual and after a while it finally piqued Qui-Gon’s interest.  
  
“Obi-Wan, is everything alright in there?” he called out, concern in his voice.  
  
“Yes, Master, just fine. I’ll be there in a moment.” Obi-Wan replied a bit too quickly, his voice pitched a bit high. The boy was obviously up to something.  
  
After a bit more noise from the kitchenette, the boy’s gingery head appeared. He carried a large tray in his hands. Besides the usual pot of tea and cups, there were lovely, flaky pastries, thick slices of bread and a jar of jam.  
  
“Obi-wan, what is all of this? Have I forgotten my Lifeday again?” The Jedi Master asked, a laugh in his voice.  
  
“No, Master.” He smiled sheepishly. “I just felt like doing something a little different. We’ve been so busy away on missions that I though we might just start the day off a little slower than usual.”  
  
Qui-Gon beamed at his Padawan. It had been quite some time since they’d had a chance to work together and play together without the pressure of a mission over their heads. Obi-wan was becoming a promising young knight and his Master didn’t want to miss the little moments as he grew. At 15, the boy still held the bright enthusiasm of childhood, but his actions left no doubt of his developing maturity.  
  
“That sounds like a grand idea, Padawan mine.” He told the boy as he reached over and tousled the spiky hair. “Do you have something you want to do in particular?”  
  
“Well, we already did one of the things I was hoping for.”  
  
“Sleeping, Padawan? Yes, we surely did enough of that last night. So long since we had such comfortable beds, too.” His eyes twinkled brightly as he spoke.  
  
“No, Master. Meditating.” Obi-Wan replied shyly to his Master’s teasing.  
  
“Oh yes, that.” Qui-Gon grinned back. “I know of something else we can do to start the day right, but let’s enjoy this fine breakfast first.”  
  
They chatted about little things, the lovely sunrise, rumors they had picked up the day before while checking in with friends, and various minutiae they had been unable to discuss while on a mission. They ate slowly and comfortably, sipping tea and enjoying each other’s company.  
  
When they had finished they both rose from the couch. Qui-Gon disappeared into his room and Obi-Wan took the tray of dishes into the kitchenette and washed each mug, plate and utensil, as was his habit. When he returned to the common room Qui-Gon was back on the couch and signaled for him to sit on the footstool before his Master. On a small table nearby were a comb, scissors, thread and various colored beads. Obi-Wan looked at them and then at his Master.  
  
“Master? Is my braid in that bad a shape?” Obi-Wan glanced down at the neat rope of hair that hung from behind his ear to his waist.  
  
“No Padawan. You do a fine job of keeping it neat and tidy as you do with all else in your life. Where you got that habit from I will never know. You surely did not pick it up from me.” Qui-Gon laughed and Obi-Wan blushed.  
  
He was not sure why he did such things either. He thought that perhaps it was a way for him to balance all the chaos that was in their lives. A foil for the anarchy often brought on by his Master’s impulsive, yet good-hearted, dedication to the Living Force.  
  
“Here, Obi-Wan, take a seat. We have not kept up with your speedy progress. Let me fix this up for you.”  
  
With deft fingers Qui-Gon unraveled Obi-Wan’s braid and gently combed it through. Next he snipped a few hairs from his own head and wove it in with Obi-Wan's as he remade the braid. Finally he slid the beads of achievement and recognition symbolizing Obi-Wan’s completed challenges onto the rope of hair and tied it off with the colorful thread.  
  
“There. That’s much better, young one.”  
  
“Thank you Master. You always manage to do a much better job of it than I do.”  
  
“I think its because my own hair is within it, Padawan. It gives it that extra charm.” He chuckled and patted the boy’s shoulder. “I know we must get started on our day, but this has been a lovely morning, young one. I thank you for thinking of taking the extra time.”  
  
“Your welcome, Master.”  
  
Obi-Wan got up and moved to the couch next to Qui-Gon. The big Jedi put an arm around his apprentice’s should and the boy leaned back into his chest, settling himself comfortably. They both let out large yawns and shifted deeper into the couch’s warm softness.  
  
“We should get up soon, youngling.” Qui-Gon muttered sleepily, using the endearment he hadn’t spoken since Obi-Wan was very small.  
  
“Yes, Master.” Came the slurred reply.  
  
A few hours later, a concerned Master Yoda entered the Jinn/Kenobi suite and, finding the two weary Jedi safe and sound asleep on the couch, he commed the Council chamber.  
  
“Found my wayward younglings, I have. Time it is for these Jedi to rest. Debrief them tomorrow, we shall.”  
  
Smoothly sliding the comm back into his belt, the diminutive Master reached out with the Force to collect a blanket off a nearby chair. He unfolded it and gently covered the sleeping Jedi then slipped quietly out the door. 

  



	12. You Can't Go Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karina makes an unexpected trip home and must face the past horrors that took place there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first foray into the great Beyond! I did very little research into the timeframe here. It's probably safest to call it AU for now.

Title: You Can't Go Home Again  
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Sometime after RotJ, AU, sorta  
Characters: 2 OCs!  
Genre: Angst  
Summary: Karina makes an unexpected trip home and must face the past horrors that took place there.  
Notes: My first foray into the great Beyond! I did very little research into the timeframe here. It's probably safest to call it AU for now.  
Disclaimer: Hi Uncle George! This is not the author you're looking for, move along!  
  


  
“You’re sending me where?” Karina’s jaw dropped and she stared at the woman before her. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.  
  
“To Prakith. Your homeworld. They’ve just voted in a New Republic governor and he requests an escort to Coruscant.” Chancellor Leia Organa Solo sounded truly remorseful that she had to make this request of her aid. “He asked that it be someone from his world if anyone were available. I’m sorry, Karina. You’re the only Prakithi we could locate.”  
  
“I haven’t been back since… I left.” Karina replied quietly now, then hesitantly told Leia, “But if you can’t find anyone else.”  
  
“Thank you, Karina.” Leia put a soothing hand on the woman’s shoulder. “This all came up rather suddenly. Here’s all the information you’ll need.” Leia handed her a datapad. “I’m sorry, but you’ll be leaving this afternoon. You will be flying yourself though, if that’s alright.”  
  
“Yes, that’s fine.” She replied distractedly biting her lip. “I’ll be ready.”  
  
“I know it’ll be hard. I know what haunts you.” Leia told her softly, pulling her out of her reverie. The Chancellor always knew how to respond to someone’s fears. She could empathize with any being’s pain or tragedy and it made her a marvelous and sympathetic leader. “The New Republic appreciates your sacrifice and so do I.”  
  
Karina nodded her head in response and left the Chancellors chambers. She went to her apartment with the intention of packing, but instead she sat down with a strong cup of soothing tea and stared out the large window that overlooked the glittering Coruscanti cityscape. She counted the years in her head and realized that it had been over a decade since she’d been home. Being a member of the Rebellion meant that contact with her family couldn’t be maintained for the safety of all involved. She had only found out a few years ago that both of her parents had passed on. There was nothing for her on Prakith anymore but memories.  
  
Eventually pulling herself together, Karina packed a small bag and headed to the spaceport. She was even more thankful now that she’d be flying herself. She was a good pilot and allowing others to take the helm always made her jumpy and she was already distracted enough without worry about some stranger’s flying abilities. After completing a quick check of the small ship’s systems she smoothly maneuvered the craft through the heavy air traffic of the planet-city. As soon as she was given clearance by traffic control, she entered hyperspace.  
  
Once the lines of altered space blurred in the viewport, she put the ship on autopilot and began to review the information on the datapad Leia had given her. There was basic planetary information on Prakith listed in all its scientific glory. Oxygen levels, population surveys, geographical data; it was strange to see her homeworld analyzed and taken apart in such a cold, calculating manner.  
  
She scanned quickly through this information, much of which she was already familiar with, and moved on to the current political data she would need for her mission to succeed. She was very curious who had become governor and her heart skipped a beat when she finally reached the name. Sierdan Fan. After all this time she’d couldn’t believe she’d be seeing him again. And now there was no way around it. She was to be his escort.  
  
The half-day journey across the core went by quickly and before she knew it the ship was coming out of hyperspace. The dark, mountainous planet of Prakith came into view as the stars stopped streaking by and became single points of light in the inky black of space. Upon landing she was greeted by a small contingent of local security. Their hastily cobbled uniforms all had an ill fit to them and gave a less than intimidating presence as they escorted her through the city. She was informed that they were taking her directly to the old Imperial governor’s offices, now being used as Prakith’s planetary government buildings. As they made their way quickly through the city streets Karina watched with growing fascination as the people moved about around her. She saw smiles on many faces and laughter pealed out from groups of running children. People had an ease about them that she didn’t remember ever seeing before. The marketplace was tidy and bustling, though the wares seemed more meager than she remembered.  
  
When they arrived at the large, stone building she was escorted directly to Sierdan’s offices. The assistant who was sitting at the desk outside a set of large wooden doors told her she was expected and she could go right in. She opened one of the weighty panels and slipped inside. A handsome man a few years older than her looked up from the pile of datapads and flimsiplasts spread on the durasteel desk in front of him. His eyes grew warm when he recognized his visitor.  
  
“Karina! I was hoping they’d send you,” he stood and rushed over to her. “But it was only a hope, really. It’s been so long.” He suddenly grew more hesitant. “How are you … love?” The last word was more a question than greeting.  
  
“I’m well.” She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “As well as can be expected coming back. So much has changed.”  
  
“Yes it has. And for the better if I have anything to do with it.” He searched her eyes for some elusive reaction, though he did not even know what he wanted to see there. “Would you like to see what we’ve done so far?”  
  
“That would be wonderful, Sier.” She replied, falling into the old endearment easily. “When we are done with that, though, I have something I need to do.” She met his eyes and placed a hand softly on his arm.  
  
“Karina, no. You don’t want to go there. There’s no need to face that. It’s in the past.” He tried to convince her, but knew that in the end, she would have to deal with her memories in her own way.  
  
“I must see it, Sierdan. I have to know that business is finished.” She looked him directly in the eye with a determination that he knew was in his best interest to heed, even after all these years apart.  
  
“Let’s go on that tour first.” He told her, grasping the hand on his arm. “I want you to see all the good that can still come out of this place before you subject yourself to the worst.”  
  
She agreed and he led her out to his personal speeder. They rode along comfortably as he pointed out various improvements the newly formed government had made. The city of Prak was once home to one of the most intensely fortified outposts in the Empire. With the Emperor destroyed and the New Republic in its place, the Prakithi had gotten to work wiping away the taint of their oppressors. Gone were the blatant signs of propaganda. No more statues of the Emperor dominated the squares and parks, billboards touting the stability and peace the New Order brought had been torn down and, most noticeably, Stormtroopers were no longer stationed menacingly throughout the city.  
  
Sierdan wove his way through the light traffic, eventually guiding the sleek craft to the far end of the large capital and out of the gates, finally stopping at the edge of a steep cliff. High above them a large building stood looking out over the city. It’s black spire reached upward as if in a malicious attempt to puncture a hole in the indigo sky.  
  
“Well.” Sierdan said, growling. “There it is, the wretched thing. I can’t wait to tear it down.”  
  
“Tear it down?” Karina turned to him, anger in her voice. “You can’t do that. It should remain just as it is. It’s a reminder of what can happen when the people lose their voice and sacrifice their freedom for the promise of a protection that cannot exist.”  
  
Sierdan sighed resignedly. “Perhaps you’re right. Others have told me the same thing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it matters little for now. That’s part of the reason I need to go to Coruscant. We can’t afford to knock it down, even if we choose to. The Empire provided everything here. Now that they’re gone, the government is in dire straits indeed.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that Sierdan, truly.” Karina replied with deep concern in her voice. “I’ll see if I can do anything to help when we get back to Coruscant.”  
  
He simply nodded and handed her a datapad. “Here. That’s everything we know about the place.” He gave her a hard look. “Karina. I’ll ask you again not to do this. We’ve all suffered enough. Just let it go.”  
  
“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice rose in volume, tight with emotion. “I heard them. All of them. I still wake in the middle of the night and hear them in my head. I have to do this.”  
  
Sierdan reached out a hand and gently caressed her cheek. He understood, probably better than most. He didn’t like it, but he knew why she had to do this. “I’ll wait here?” he asked softly.  
  
She gave him a grim smile. This wasn’t his fault and she felt bad about lashing out at him. “That would be lovely, Sier. Thank you.” She took the datapad from him and got out of the speeder.  
  
Without looking back she headed up the steep hill towards the forbidding spire. The climb was long and intense and her legs quickly began to ache. Much of the path was smooth, but very steep. At some points steps had been carved into the obsidian when the rise came to a particularly sharp angle. Finally reaching the top, Karina sat down on the ground to catch her breath.  
  
As she did so, she scanned through the information the datapad provided regarding what had occurred in the black building before her during the New Order’s reign on Prakith. Her breath caught in her throat as she read screen after screen. There it was in black and white. Confirmation of all the reasons she had left and joined the Rebellion all those years ago. The Citadel Inquisitorious. The atrocities that had taken place in this fortress were simply unspeakable. Their records were exacting and Karina’s last hope disappeared as she read the long list of names. No one who entered the Citadel as prisoner had ever returned.  
  
Karina’s family had lived nearby, at the edge of the city, and had stood as witness to almost every prisoner entering the building with their Inquisitor escorts. She did not need this datapad to tell her how true the rumors that leaked out of there had been. The screams of hundreds of tortured Jedi still haunted her nightmares.  
  
She stood now, her heart suddenly trying to race out of her chest. She ran towards the building, stretching her legs in longer and longer strides until she slammed herself into the building at full force.  
  
“Traitors! Frelling traitors!” She screamed. “You took them! You took them all and you killed them! They were the Light of the whole galaxy and you stole them away! You left us all in the Dark!”  
  
She pounded her hands against the doors until they were bruised. She screamed and cried until her throat grew hoarse and raw. Finally breaking down, she became a retching, sobbing heap on the ground, tears still rolling down her face. She could do nothing but sit there in a well of agony as she purged decades of hatred from within her heart.  
  
The light in the sky had begun to fade when Sierdan found her sitting there. He had grown worried when she hadn’t returned to him and followed her path up the cliff side.  
  
“Karina! Oh, Karina. Sweet. I…” words failed him now. She flew into his arms and he stood there holding her in silence for a long, long time.  
  
She finally pulled away a bit and he brushed her hair gently from her face. “Come, love. Let me take you home.”  
  
She was weary from her grief, but a weight she had born for many years had begun to lessen and free itself from her heart. She laughed bitterly and he gave her a puzzled look. “You know, sometimes Sier, you can’t go home again.” She linked her arm with his and allowed him to lead her slowly down the hill. “And that is a very good thing.”


	13. Just For Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This challenge actually spawned two stories! Special little thanks to the Obi-Wan Workshop for their recent discussion of the fate of Siri's lightsaber.

Title: Just For Tonight  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
Timeline: Clone Wars  
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Asajj Ventress  
The Dare: From vader_incarnate: You ever watch the animated Clone Wars on Cartoon Network? Dooku has a female apprentice by the name of Asajj Ventress. Your story will feature an Obi-Wan/Asajj Ventress romance, though not necessarily mush. The story will be 1000+ words long and be set in a hive of scum and villainy. You must mention clones, droids, gold, smoke, chains, and balls.  
Notes: This challenge actually spawned two stories! Special little thanks to the Obi-Wan Workshop for their recent discussion of the fate of Siri's lightsaber.  
  


EDIT: Must stop the insanity of this pairing. I'm beginning to really like it! I've even created artwork for this tale!   
[](http://web.archive.org/web/20061129165323/http://extemporania.net/other/swprojects/covers/obiasajj.jpg)  
  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into the smoky cantina with a swagger he was unaccustomed to displaying. His new pants clung uncomfortably to his legs and his tunic and leather jacket bunched oddly in various places. He sighed heavily as he looked for an empty seat in a corner, his vision slightly blocked by the false cybernetic eye covering the left side of his face.  
  
‘ _I will never get used to undercover operations_ ,’ he though bitterly as he adjusted the holdout holster hidden under his jacket. Made for a projectile weapon, the smooth hilt of his lightsaber tended to move about in its roomy compartment. A larger, more formidable blaster was strapped to his leg and a vibroblade peeked out of his laced up, black boot.  
  
He wandered his way to the bar and ordered a drink. When a table emptied across the room he rose and took it over. It afforded him a view of three quarters of the cantina, including the door. He settled in to wait out his contact.  
  
Asajj Ventress strolled into the dingy cantina as casually as she could. The dark wig she wore itched against her scalp, slowly driving her to distraction. The blood red dress of her alter ego clung to every curve of her body and she shivered slightly as a draft wafted over her bare arms and neck.  
  
‘ _I will never get used to undercover operations_ ,’ she thought bitterly as she looked about the establishment, searching for her contact.  
  
Her lightsabers rubbed uncomfortably against her lower legs, hidden by her long skirt. She was about to move toward the bar when she spotted him. She had been told he would have a cybernetic eye. He'd been easy enough to spot in this rough crowd; replacement eyes like that were pricey items and hard to come by. She began to work her way over to his table.  
  
Obi-Wan saw her come in the door. The red dress he had been told to look for certainly caught his attention. He saw her scan the smoke-hazed room and spot him. As she made her way closer she was often out of view. He lost sight of her completely until a whisper in his ear startled him.  
  
“What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” Her breath tickled his ear as she spoke the pass phrase. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I wanted to make sure I got the dress right.”  
  
She cringed inwardly at her own words. They were supposed to play at being new lovers, her lead had told her. It was the only way they would be able to share their information without drawing the attention of prying ears. She sat down and looked the man in the face and her breath froze in her throat. The only indication she saw that he had recognized her as well was a slight widening of his visible eye. She was about to stand back up when she felt a wave of calm wash over her from the Force.  
  
As soon as he saw her face, Obi-Wan began trying to figure out why they had been deceived. He had felt her recoil at his presence and knew that she had not expected to see him either.  
They stared at each other for a moment, both unsure what their next move should be. Obi-Wan spoke first; putting a smirk on his face that Asajj knew was forced.  
  
“Now that you are here, my dear, my world can continue its turning. Come, let’s have a dance before we go to dinner.”  
  
She felt his calm assurance and found she was clinging to it to maintain her composure. He rose and offered his hand. She stood and he immediately drew her close. With one hand on her elbow and the other on the small of her back, he led her to the crowded dance floor.  
  
They were aware of dozens of sets of eyes on them as they began to move about to the soft music. She sent a wave of disgust toward him as he pulled her closer. She reached her hand up to pull his head closer.  
  
“So Kenobi can actually be found without his clones.” She hissed.  
  
“And Ventress without her droids, how interesting.” He chuckled.  
  
She was about to make another snide retort when he stopped her.  
  
“Before we start battling, Ventress, I urge you to pay more attention to what is going on around us.” He breathed softly into her ear. “I’m sure neither one of us can afford to blow our cover. Nar Shadda is a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but a powerful one. They care neither for Republic nor Separatists causes and would be thrilled to have us as trophies.”  
  
“Well, Kenobi, then I suggest we just turn now and walk away.”  
  
She began to pull away from him, but he held her in a firm grip.  
  
“If only it were that simple, my dear.” He said the last words with icy emphasis. “If you would focus less on your hatred of me, you would realize that someone has obviously set us up. We are now prey and our tracker is no ordinary bounty hunter. He is a Grey One, a Force user trained by the Hutts to take care of quarry such as us.”  
  
“So we are stuck together until we can get off planet.” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “You seem to have a plan, Kenobi, what is it?”  
  
“We must remain as a couple until morning. We have to put on a very convincing show. With another Force user around, we cannot just act like we’re in love, we must feel it, think it, believe it. I do not enjoy the idea, either, but for tonight we have no choice. Unless you have a better idea.”  
  
“We could just take him out or shield ourselves from him?” she was desperate for an out from this plan.  
  
“You need to work on your espionage skills, Ventress. His elimination will alert his employers to our presence and our shields will be a null point in the Force for him to track like a magnet.” He corrected her and she chanced a quick glare of frustration at him.  
  
“I see, and we must stay together because they expect us to separate as soon as our identities are revealed to each other.” She set her jaw firmly. “So be it, Jedi. I can do it if you can.”  
  
“Then let it begin.” He smiled.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pulled her close. He released all of emotions save one and grasped it tightly. He clung now to the one thought that would make this plan work. Siri. He felt Asajj do something similar and wondered who she would be remembering this night.  
  
“What shall I call you?” she whispered softly now.  
  
“Ben, just Ben.” He managed to make his voice a convincing murmur.  
  
“Then I shall be Venti.” She spoke quietly.  
  
He startled her with his sudden change of volume.  
  
“My dear Venti, have I told you how lovely you look this evening? I am a lucky man to have found you.”  
  
He sent a wave of calm and love to her through the Force. His control was impressive and she knew she must match it if they were to survive the night. She reached down into the part of herself that would allow her to hold up her end of the bargain.  
  
“Thank you, Ben.” And she did her best to blush modestly.  
  
“Well, shall we go make the most use of that lovely dress? Come, I have credits burning a hole in my pocket. Let’s paint the town red!”  
  
He took her hand and softly brought it to his lips, his beard just brushing her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. This was going to be complicated.  
  
“Yes,” she replied, running a hand gently down the side of his face. “Yes, let’s go have some fun.”  
  
He flashed her a charming grin and led her off the dance floor toward the door.  
  
As they strolled down the city street Ben took Venti’s hand. He gave her a charming grin and she smiled shyly back. They found a small, dimly lit restaurant a few blocks away. They ate quietly, enjoying the delicious food and chancing glances at each other. Near the end of the meal, Venti went to use the ladies refresher. When she came back Ben had a mischievous grin on his face.  
  
“What have you been up to?” she asked with a teasing, warning tone.  
  
“Me? Why sitting here waiting for the world to start turning again, of course.” He replied innocently.  
  
“Hrmph” came his companion’s reply.  
  
Dessert had arrived and Venti was about to take her first bite when the strolling vin player suddenly appeared next to her.  
  
“Any requests, my lady?” he asked. “Ah, but wait. Let me choose. I know just the thing for love.”  
  
He winked at Ben and began to play. The bittersweet melody made her heart soar. When he finished she found there was a tear in her eye and Ben was holding her hand.  
  
“Thank you, Master Musician. That was beautiful.” Ben told him and slipped something into the man’s hand.  
  
Dinner now complete, they left the café arm in arm and leisurely made for a destination across town. After walking a bit they hopped into an open, equivere-pulled carriage for the short ride.  
  
“Where are we going, Ben?” Venti asked as they rode smoothly along behind the beast and it’s driver.  
  
“That is my little secret, my dear.” He smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulder.  
  
She leaned into his chest and rested her head against him. He smelled good; clean and familiar. She found it easy to get lost in the happy memory his scent brought to her mind. He squeezed her shoulder and she lifted an ear toward him.  
  
“Venti, love, it seems we have an admirer, if you understand my meaning.” He whispered.  
  
“Yes, I sensed him as well.” She said softly. “He must be very lonely to take pleasure in following people.”  
  
“Pay it no mind, sweet. The night is still young, he will grow disinterested eventually.”  
  
They arrived at an open pedestrian shopping area and got out of the carriage. They walked a bit along the broad causeway, stopping at shop windows and admiring the wares. When they came to the base of a tall tower Ben stopped them.  
  
“My lady, if you would be so kind as to go to the top of the tower and wait for me, I will join you shortly.” She was prepared to argue, but he reassured her. “Don’t worry yourself. I would never abandon you up there.”  
  
He again reached down and kissed her hand, then disappeared into the crowd. Venti got into the lift that took her to the observation deck, high above the city. When she arrived she walked to the edge and leaned on the rail. She sensed a vague presence behind her, but focused her attention out onto the glittering city below. From here, she mused, everything seemed so far away. The bright lights hid all of the corruption and it looked rather beautiful.  
  
A few moments later something soft brushed her arm and she jumped.  
  
“I’m sorry to startle you, sweet.” Ben’s voice came from behind her.  
  
“What were you up to this time?” she queried.  
  
“Oh, just getting a little something.” He replied and passed a small box to her.  
  
He turned now to look at the city, pretending he didn’t need to see her reaction.  
  
“Ben? Are you mad? How much was this?” she said in a stunned voice, the open box in her hand.  
  
“Not as much as you think, but more than you want to know. And it’s rude to ask the price of a gift.” He chuckled.  
  
Removing the golden chain from its box, he turned her away from him and slipped it around her neck. A small, polished, luminous ball of energy, a boji stone, gave a dim glow as it hung lightly from the necklace.  
  
“It is a light in the darkness.” He whispered.  
  
She turned, tears in her eyes and a look of confused wonder on her face. They looked into each other’s eyes, both knowing they were completely lost in the spell of their ruse. She reached up to brush his face and he pulled her into his warm embrace. Her lips lightly brushed his cheek.  
  
“Thank you.” She whispered back.  
  
Ben was a goner and he knew it. The lovely creature before him was all he wanted and all he needed tonight.  
  
They stood for a while looking out at the city, his arm draped casually around her smaller frame. She shivered under his hand.  
  
“A little cool up here?” he asked and she nodded yes. “I know a great little place nearby. Serves great caff and an amazing guunga fruit crumble.”  
  
The night grew long as they sat in the all-night diner drinking caff, eating crumble and weaving tales of their childhood and youth that both knew would fall apart when touched by the approaching dawn.  
  
The sky was just beginning to pale as they made their way along the riverfront towards Venti’s ship. They stopped on a small bridge; both sensing the being that followed them. They looked toward the horizon, streaks of light just beginning to show along its edge as they leaned against each other.  
  
“It’s been a lovely evening.” Ben whispered.  
  
He sensed quite clearly how crucial this moment was to their escape. The figure was approaching at a casual, but steady, pace.  
  
“Yes, lovely.” She replied.  
  
Ben ran his fingers softly along her arm and she turned toward him. As the being began to enter their peripheral vision, Ben pulled Venti close. Their eyes met and he took her face gently in his callused hands as she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in closer.  
  
The Grey One passed the kissing couple, his frustration showing plainly on his face. He had been following the wrong people all night; that was obvious. Now he had lost both Kenobi and Ventress and would be facing gods-knows-what kind of punishment when he returned to his employer. He’d probably be sent to the Outer Rim. Some gods-forsaken rock like Tatooine would be the next place he’d call home.  
  
‘ _Maybe I should follow in that guy’s footsteps and find myself a little woman and settle down._ ’ He thought. ‘ _Tatooine might not be bad, at that. Maybe I can get myself a moisture farm._ ’ He mused as he disappeared into the remaining night.  
  
A little while later Ben walked Venti the final, short distance to her ship.  
  
“Well, my dear Venti, we have made it through the night.” He still held a bit of laughter in his voice.  
  
“It’s over, Kenobi, we do not have to pretend now.” She hissed.  
  
Obi-Wan felt the anger and hatred for him rise within her, but was grateful to sense that she would leave peacefully.  
  
“So it is, Ventress.” He replied coolly.  
  
She headed up the ramp toward the ship’s interior, but stopped halfway.  
  
“I’m sorry, Ben.” Came the quiet comment.  
  
Had she turned around she would have caught the perplexed look on his face.  
  
“You must have truly loved her.” And with that she disappeared into the dark embrace of her ship.  
  
Obi-Wan returned to his own craft and got on board. Once he had entered hyperspace and was headed toward home he changed into sleep pants, removed the false cybernetic eye and sat wearily on his bunk. He removed a small box from the drawer next to the head of the bed and opened it. He lifted the sleek lightsaber from within and ran his fingers along its smooth surface. It was made for a hand that was smaller than his, a feminine hand.  
  
“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered to it. “I’m sorry it wasn’t you tonight.”  
  
As a single tear ran down his face he put the saber gently back in its casing, shut off the light and let sleep overtake his tired mind. 

  



	14. Who Really Has The High Ground?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that would be giving it away!

Title: Who Really Has The High Ground?   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Clone Wars  
Characters: Obi-Wan, Anakin and special guest  
Genre: You shall see!  
Summary: Now that would be giving it away!  
Disclaimer: Ah George, if only you'd let us do this for money!  
  
  


  
The two combatants were drenched in sweat, their tunics stuck to their damp bodies. The intense ferocity of their battle showed in their eyes. Two long, blue lightsabers danced and sung through the air. The energy they exuded crackled and hummed with each impact. They were as well matched as the men who possessed them. One man was taller than the other, his moves more aggressive, on the offensive. He searched out and capitalized on any holes in his opponent’s defensive with the tenacity of a fiery dragon. The object of his fury was an older man, ginger-haired and compactly built. He was a master without peer, grace and fluidity in his every move. His lightsaber weaved so swiftly through the air that it blurred in his adversary’s vision.  
  
The two men, brothers and comrades, lifelong friends, moved through wide corridors, over a long table banked by control panels and out onto a narrow balcony. They were bathed in a blood red light that seemed to intensify every move of their struggle. The older man took each blow smoothly yet seemed always in retreat. Knowing he was never truly in danger of defeat he gave his opponent every opportunity to change tactic, change his direction, change his mind. They seemed at a stalemate when the master suddenly leaped up onto an incline.  
  
“It is over, Anakin. I have the high ground.”  
  
The younger man was preparing to leap after him, recklessly heedless of the warning when a loud tapping sound caught his attention. Both men closed their lightsabers and turned toward the noise.  
  
“To the training salle, you shall keep your sparring.” Said the small, green creature in the doorway. His faced was bathed in the fading light of the brilliant Coruscanti sunset as he gave them a withering glare that sent chills down both their spines. This was not a being whose will would be ignored.  
  
“Padawans and younglings, studying, they are. Disturb them further, you shall not.”  
  
Sure his point was made, Master Yoda turned to leave the room. He stopped briefly and commented over his shoulder.  
  
“Think, one would, that enough of battles, Master Obi-Wan and Knight Skywalker, have had.”  
  
“Yes, Master.” Came the dual, now sheepish, reply.  
  
After the ancient Master had left the room, Anakin turned towards his former Master.  
  
“So, Master Kenobi, it seems we are at a stalemate.”  
  
“Yes, my young apprentice. That would seem to be so. It appears we have but one choice.”  
  
“And what is that, my Master?”  
  
“We continue as we always have and split the dishes. You wash and I’ll dry.”  
  
“Yes, Master.” The young man groaned as they exited the room, headed toward their quarters and the never-ending battle against… dishpan hands. 

  



	15. Untitled, as yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a prequel to VaderLVR's AU [Stronger Than Death](http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/15993435). Thanks so much, Master, for the permission, beta, and most importantly, the inspiration!

Title: Untitled, as yet   
Author: Jennifer_Lyn  
Characters: Obi-Wan, Anakin  
Summary: This is a prequel to VaderLVR's AU [Stronger Than Death](http://boards.theforce.net/The_Saga/b10476/15993435). Thanks so much, Master, for the permission, beta, and most importantly, the inspiration!  
  


Obi-Wan had experienced an especially trying day with his Padawan. Anakin had been brought before the Council, yet again, for disciplinary action and then Obi-Wan, too, had been admonished for his role. They told him he needed to get better control of his Padawan, yet offered no solutions. Surprising himself, he remarked that perhaps they should fashion a leash for the boy, not that it would do much good. Anakin would find his way out of it in a nanosecond.  
  
The Council had not been pleased with his option and sent him off with the suggestion that he meditate on the situation and ask the Force for guidance. They had looked at him as if he had gone mad when he chuckled at this last attempt at help. He had been so busy chasing after the boy through the lower levels of Coruscant that he could not remember having a full night’s sleep, never mind time to meditate, in the last week.  
  
To add to his troubles, he had also been made aware that the situation with the Trade Federation, strife that had begun a decade ago, was coming to a head and the fate of the whole Republic was possibly at stake. The Council still held that he had killed the Sith master that fateful day on Naboo, but Obi-Wan was not so confident. Something warned him that his dealings with the Sith were not at an end.  
  
It was now late and he could feel the tension he’d been caring all day throughout every part of his body. He had locked and changed the passcode on the door to their quarters in hopes that it would slow up his intelligent, young apprentice if he tried to sneak out. Thinking hat he may just let the boy run wild for the night rather than chase him down, Obi-Wan rubbed his fatigued eyes and removed his boots before laying down and allowing sleep to engulf him.  
  
~.~  
  
Obi-Wan found himself on a hill overlooking a vast and verdant plain. There was a soft breeze blowing through the tall grass, which should have also been ruffling his hair. He reached his hands to his head and realized that his hair was cropped close to his scalp. As he lowered them again, his right hand brushed upon something attached to his head. His Padawan braid ran down his tunic, almost reaching his waist. He looked down and saw that he had on his old robes and noticed that his original lightsaber was attached to his belt.  
  
“Well,” he sighed to himself. “If I am to dream of being a youngster again, I might as well take advantage of it.”  
  
There was a small pond and a stand of trees at the edge of the plain. Obi-Wan took off toward them at a run, finding joy and exhilaration as his younger-self’s legs carried him swiftly toward his goal. When he arrived breathlessly at the edge of the pond, he found a picnic laid out in the shade.  
  
“One must appreciate the magic of dreams,” he thought as he settled himself down and began to eat.  
  
Apparently along with the young body came the gaping appetite that never seemed sated as Obi-Wan devoured every last bit of food before him. With a contented sigh he lay back on the grass and let his skin drink in the warm sunlight. He had begun to feel dozy, noting with amusement that he was falling asleep while already slumbering, when something blocked the sun from warming him.  
  
Quickly sitting up, he opened his eyes and before him saw a young girl in a bright white dress. Her dark hair was swept back in a long braid and her dark eyes smiled at him with amusement.  
  
“Hello there!” he greeted her warmly. “Where did you come from?”  
  
“It’s a dream, silly. I came here from your brain!”  
  
“That’s true. Don’t know if I’ve known anyone who looks like you, though. My imagination is surely working overtime.”  
  
“Well,” she said plopping down next to him and beginning to pluck flowers around her. “I was sent here with a message, too.”  
  
“Oh really, and what is that?”  
  
“He’s coming.” she said simply as she began to braid the flowers together.  
  
“That’s it? He’s coming? Who’s coming?”  
  
Obi-Wan was confused and hoped there would be a little more information from the girl.  
  
“That’s all I have for you, sorry. It’s just ‘He’s coming’. Guess you’d better get ready, huh?”  
  
“Get ready?” said Obi-Wan, incredulously. “How am I to get ready when I don’t know what I’m getting ready for?”  
  
“Well, you can start by getting rid of that.” She said, pointing at the braid that ran from behind his ear.  
  
“This? But I rather like having this back. I’d like to keep it. I’m not ready to let it go just yet.”  
  
“You did say you wanted to get ready, right?” she replied, passing him a small knife.  
  
“But, my master is supposed to do this.” He was resistant as he sat there with his braid in one hand and the knife in the other.  
  
He’s not here now though, is he?” her voice was soft, though the words seemed harsh to his ears.  
  
“Yes, you’re right. And he’s coming. I do want to be ready.”  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swiftly cut the braid. He opened them and looked at the limp thing in his hand.  
  
“If I’m dressed like this and I’ve just lost my braid, then I think I know who’s coming. I need to be the master now, don’t I? He’ll need me.”  
  
The girl shrugged noncommittally.  
  
“He’s coming. You’d best wake up now, be ready!”  
  
~.~  
  
Obi-Wan awoke in a sweat. He turned over and then rose quickly from his sleepcouch. He palmed the button that opened his bedroom door and entered the common area he shared with his padawan. He was about to cross the floor and check on Anakin when he noticed that his security codes were still in place. With a sigh of relief, he realized that Anakin was either waiting until later to leave or was, hopefully, going to actually get some sleep tonight.  
  
Now that he was awake and feeling restless, Obi-Wan could only think of one thing to do. Unlocking the door, he moved down the quiet hallways. The lights were dimmed to low power due to the lateness of the hour and he passed no one as he walked the corridors.  
  
He set his mind to work sifting through the dream, looking for clues to its meaning. By the time he reached the meditation gardens, he had made little headway. He knew the dream centered on Anakin’s arrival in his life and it somehow seemed to indicate he would be getting a fresh start. There was something that which did not set quite right with that interpretation, though, as fate had decided their course of action years ago. A realization settled into his bones that he had failed both his Padawan and his Master. He felt he was not worthy to continue teaching Anakin. Perhaps the dream was a portent of a new master for the boy.  
  
“Oh, Master.” he sighed to the air. “I’m so sorry I didn’t live up to your example.”  
  
Obi-Wan knelt in front of his favorite pond in the garden to begin his much-delayed meditation. He thought he briefly heard the sound of chimes and the rustle of feathers but brushed it off as a weary mind playing tricks on him. Reaching out into the Force, he searched for the peace and guidance he hoped to find in its gentle flow.


	16. Frantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin's inner thoughts in small space of time before his fall.

Title: Frantic   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: RotS  
Characters: Anakin  
Genre: Song fic  
Keywords: Angst  
Summary: Anakin's inner thoughts in small space of time before his fall.  
Disclaimer: Once again, it all belongs to George Lucas  
Thanks: To my master who didn't know it as she beta'ed, but whose own song fic [In Love and Honor](http://web.archive.org/web/20061129164355/http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/19201853) inspired me to give the genre a shot. And to Metallica. For providing soundtrack to my knitting last night and the inspiration to write Anakin for the first time.  
  
  


  
Frantic  
Lyrics by Metallica  
__  
If I could have my wasted days back  
Would I use them to get back on track?  
Stop to warm and karma’s burning  
Or look ahead, but keep on turning?  
  
All I ever wanted was to be a Jedi, to do something important with my life. I’ve finally made it, too. Obi-Wan is proud of what I’ve accomplished, even if he isn’t always happy with the way I’ve done it. But there is something wrong. I’m not the Jedi that I’m supposed to be. Something is pulling on me now. Something that carries the specter of the Dark Side with it. I know there is some event that occurred in my past that is affecting everything in my present and future. I just want to know where I went wrong. What could I have done to fix things so this dragon that is slowly growing within me would remain unborn. What would I change if I could go back now? Should I have left Padmé on Naboo? Should I have stayed with my mother on Tatooine all those years ago? Even if I knew where I went wrong, would I give up the life I have led for that alternative? No. No, then I would not have Padmé in my life. My beautiful angel. The pain of losing Mom still lives within me every day. I will not let Padmé suffer the same fate. Yes, I will find a way to save her. And I’ll do it on my own, too. I don’t need Obi-Wan’s help in this. He just wouldn’t understand. He’s too perfect of a Jedi to understand what it means to be in love like this.  
  
_Do I have the strength_  
To know how I’ll go?  
Can I find it inside  
To deal with what I shouldn’t know?  
  
Maybe Chancellor Palpatine is right. He’s never led me astray. He seems to have a better understanding of the Sith than any Jedi I’ve ever met. He says they’ve got information that might keep those I love safe. I know that anything to do with the Dark side is dangerous, but it would be worth the risk if it meant I could save Padmé and the baby. I wonder if any Jedi has used the Sith methods and remained true to the Light side. Is it possible to use that power without being overcome by it? I know I touched it when I was on Tatooine. With the Sandpeople I just... The power that flowed over me was so intense. In some ways it felt so much more real to me than the Light side I’ve been taught to use all these years. If it was used to save lives instead of ending them, maybe then it could create the balance in the Force everyone’s always talking about.  
__  
Keep searching, keep on searching  
This search goes on, this search goes on  
  
Whatever I do, I feel like I must make my decision soon. I have a feeling that things are in motion that will make my choices for me if I do not do it myself. Argh. If only Mom were here now. She always knew what to say. I could fix the mechanical things, but she would fix the fearful things, the emotional things. She always made it okay. Master Qui-Gon did, too. I wish I had gotten to know him better. He helped Obi-Wan become the powerful Master that he is today yet he wasn’t as stuck in his ways like my Master and the rest of the Council. Qui-Gon, if you’re out there, listening, I am lost and I don’t know what I should do.  
  
_Frantic Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tock_  
Frantic Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tock  
  
Things are growing darker all around me. The war is not going well and the Republic is crumbling all around me. Padmé seems safe for the moment, but the sense of her presence in the Force is not normal. In fact, no one’s presence appears normal. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m losing control of my own perceptions. Chancellor Palpatine would say that I’m too dependent on the Council’s idea of what normal perceptions are supposed to be. Still, I feel the tremors and the approaching storm. I must find a way to stem this tide of darkness, but I will not sacrifice those I love in order to fight it.  
  
_I’ve worn out always being afraid_  
An endless stream of fear that I’ve made  
Treading water full of worry  
This frantic tick tick talk of hurry  
  
I’m scared all the time now. Not for my own life, but for those around me. When I look into their faces, all I see is death. Padmé and the baby, Master Windu, the younglings. Only Obi-Wan and the Chancellor seem to be immune to this destiny. Are they the one’s I should talk to about my visions? Would they understand? No, I feel that I must bear this alone. I am the Chosen One, surely this must be my burden. A Jedi is not supposed to feel fear, but right now it seems that is all I have left.  
  
_My lifestyle_  
Determines my deathstyle  
A rising tide  
That pushes to the other side  
  
I will overcome this fear. I will learn to use it and through it, I will regain control of my fate. 

  



	17. extantholocron | 10

_10_  
answer to the 10 minute challenge.  
what would you write if you only had ten minutes?  
  


00:10 - “Ow!” Obi-Wan exclaimed as he felt a large insect sink itself into his skin. “I’ve got a bad feeling about that.” He and his master were on a jungle planet filled with strange creatures he had never seen before.  
  
00:09- The back of his neck was beginning to feel swollen. “Master, are there any poisonous insects on this planet?”  
  
“I’m not sure, Padawan, no one from the Republic has charted it yet. There may be, why do you ask?”  
  
00:08 – “Master, something bit me. I’m not feeling too well.”  
  
“Perhaps we should turn back and get you to the ship. There are more medical supplies there.”  
  
00:07 – Obi-Wan’s chest was beginning to feel constricted. “Uh-oh, not good.”  
  
00:06 – “Master?” Obi-wan took a deep, rattling breath. The green light around him fades to black.  
  
00:05 – Qui-Gon is running, carrying the young mans body. What on earth could have bitten his Padawan?  
  
00:04 – More running, Qui-Gon comms ahead to the ship. Thankfully they are not alone on this mission. Obi-Wan’s skin feels cold and clammy against his own.  
  
00:03 – Qui-Gon has stopped. Obi-Wan is not breathing. He puts a rebreather in Obi-Wan’s mouth, the young man coughs and falls back into unconsciousness.  
  
00:02 – Running again. Qui-Gon’s agitation is growing. “Hold on, Obi-Wan, just hold on.” May the Force be with him.  
  
00:01 – Bant runs out of the ship, various syringes in her hand. She plunges one into Obi-Wan’s chest.  
  
00:00 – “Master? I, I don’t think I like this planet.” 


	18. A Jedi's Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unusual team is on a retreat that gets interupted by dangerous visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in the earlier days of the Order.

Title: A Jedi's Best Friend   
Author: Jennifer_Lyn  
Characters: Unnamed Jedi and his "Padawan"  
Summary: An unusual team is on a retreat that gets interupted by dangerous visitors.  
Notes: This takes place in the earlier days of the Order.  
  


As she wandered down the hallway, she clutched the only weapon that she could find and prayed that none of the blaster bolts dancing from around the corner would find their mark in her. The lights flashed on and off in a rapid, disturbing pattern that disoriented her. She moved further down the hall, away from the firefight, hoping to gain exit to the outdoors where she knew there were safer places to hide. She also hoped to find her master there. She had to somehow warn him of what she had seen.  
  
At last she saw the door before her, but she could not get to the control panel. Her paws were ill equipped to manipulate the buttons. She put them up against the door itself and scratched at it. It did not move and she began to whine, low in her throat. She heard a noise on the other side and backed into a corner. Her fur bristled when the door opened and she saw the plastisteel armor of the enemy. As soon as they were past her, she leapt for the closing door, just barely pulling her tail through in time to escape their rapid, hissing closure.  
  
Finally in the clear, she made straight for the woods at the edge of the compound. Once she was hidden within their relative safety, she quickly made her way back to her master’s shelter. Her heart was pounding loudly in her sensitive ears when she arrived at the small hovel they had been living in. Her master was sitting in meditation in front of a small fire, but opened his eyes when he sensed her frenzied approach.  
  
“What is it, girl? What’s got you upset?”  
  
She approached him quickly and placed the weapon in his lap. He picked up the saliva covered blaster and looked at it thoughtfully.  
  
“Thank you, my dear friend. I understand the warning. We shall leave immediately.”  
  
He stood, clipping his lightsaber to his belt, and began to gather the few items he had left laying around the campfire.  
  
“Come on, girl,” He reached down and ruffled her fur. “Let’s go find somewhere a little quieter and safer to continue our retreat.”  
  
She nuzzled her head under his hand with a sense of satisfaction. She knew that she had done her duty, for she was a Jedi who followed the Code.


	19. From Humble Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young novice takes his first step into a larger world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in answer to the Quotation Roulette challenge. I got number 29: "I hate quotations, tell me what you know." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Title: From Humble Beginnings   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: Many years before TPM  
Characters: ah, you shall see!  
Genre: drama  
Summary: A young novice takes his first step into a larger world.  
Notes: This is in answer to the Quotation Roulette challenge. I got number 29: "I hate quotations, tell me what you know." - Ralph Waldo Emerson  
Disclaimer: It's all George's!  
  
  
  


"And in the time of greatest despair there shall come a savior, and he shall be known as the Son of Suns."  
  
‘There they go again!’ the novice sighed heavily as he scrubbed the stone floor of the corridor. ‘My masters are always quoting that book! I hate quotations! Tell me what you know! But they will not do that. It is all riddles and mysteries; prophecies and predictions!’  
  
The young man scrubbed harder in frustration. He had lived much of his life here in the temple. The monks were kind to him and had become his family after his parents were killed. They taught him much of the lore of the order. When they discovered that he was Force sensitive they had begun to teach him to practice the Way of Ka.  
  
He spent many hours in meditation, learned the katas thoroughly and worked hard to hone his control of the Force. He tried hard to follow the Code and the Ka, but he always felt there was something more out there. A deeper power he knew the monks held the knowledge of but would not share with him. The dark thought caused him to throw his brush across the corridor where it smacked with a large bang against the door of the sanctuary. He grimaced knowing he’d be in trouble now that he had disturbed everyone’s concentration, but his anger did not subside into repentance. A moment later a monk, dressed as all the others in his deep blue robes, appeared from inside the door leading to the meditation room.  
  
He did not look at the figure on the floor before him but turned and strode silently down the hall and into one of the rooms nearby. The novice rose and followed as slowly as he could. He did not look forward to the conversation he was about to have with the elder. He entered the abbot’s office and closed the door behind him. The room was sparsely decorated and like the rest of the monastery it was marked by the absence of any modern electrical technology. There were books on a shelf, paper and ink for writing and a wooden table surrounded by large sitting pillows. There was not even a microchip in sight.  
  
The young man came and sat across from the silent monk who was in charge of temple. He made to speak, but the abbot raised a hand to silence him.  
  
"Plagueis, my boy, something troubles you beyond the simple scrubbing of the floors. You are not at peace and you have disturbed the concentration of the others in the temple."  
  
"I am sorry sir. I do not wish to bother anyone. I was lost in my thoughts and allowed my frustration to surface." He stopped for a moment. What he was about to say could change the course of his future here. "I wish to know more of the Force. I know there are depths that we of the Shimuran Order have not yet reached for."  
  
The abbot did not look pleased. "We are meant to do as the Force tells us, young one. No more, no less. It is thoughts like this, of personal glory, that caused our order to break apart from the Jedi all those centuries ago. The Code and the Force are all that matter. Our own ambitions are nothing in comparison and you would do well to let them go. In time you will come to understand this as we all have. What you hunger for goes against the true nature of the Force."  
  
"I disagree, Abbot. I believe the Force may be all powerful, but I do not believe it is all knowing." Plagueis looked into his lap. His hands clenched tightly of their own volition. His jaw was set firmly.  
  
The abbot’s voice became softer, "That thought, my son, is the antithesis of everything we have tried to teach you."  
  
"Then perhaps it is time for me to leave." He growled. "I have had enough of this bowing and scraping to the will of the Force. It is time I took my destiny into my own hands."  
  
His face was growing hot and his breathing was heavy as he rose from his seat. Plagueis had lost control of his emotions and he was thrilled by how it made him feel. There was a sudden rush of power as he felt the Force rise within him as never before. He could see the look of hurt on the older man’s face. It meant nothing to him now. He turned away and stormed out the door, banging it against its hinges.  
  
He walked quickly to his room and packed his few belongings. As he walked out towards the courtyard he passed the library and hesitated. He knew it was a huge breach of trust, but he would not have the opportunity to get in there again. He pushed the heavy wooden door open and peeked inside. The large room was empty. He slipped in and walked swiftly to the shelf directly across from the entrance. There it was, the forbidden book. Only full initiates into the order were allowed to read even parts of it. Plagueis had longed to touch it for most of his life. Now he reached out his hand. He stopped but a moment before plunging forward and grabbing it off the shelf, stuffing it into his pack.  
  
He was suddenly stunned by the thought that this was really the end of his life here. He was leaving forever and with no less than the Journal of the Whills in his possession. Taking a deep breath, he turned and strode boldly out the door, made his way across the courtyard and out through the large front gate. A great sense of freedom washed over him as well as a sense of peace as he left the walls behind him.  
  
‘Funny,’ he thought, ‘After all this time searching for it in there, I find peace out here.’  
  
He shouldered his pack, said a word of thanks to the Force for its continuing guidance and set off to find his destiny.


	20. Ben's Big Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has gone missing. Can Ben help Anakin find him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This answers 2 challenges! The "Pathetic life form" Obi-Wan challenge and the "Ben" origin story challenge. I wrote it after both had ended, just 'cause I needed to write some Obi!

  
Title: Ben's Big Adventure   
Author(s): Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: between AotC & RotS  
Characters: Obi-Wan, Dex, Anakin, Bant, OC  
Genre: Humor  
Keywords: Obi-Wan  
Summary: Obi-Wan has gone missing. Can Ben help Anakin find him?  
Notes: This answers 2 challenges! The "Pathetic life form" Obi-Wan challenge and the "Ben" origin story challenge. I wrote it after both had ended, just 'cause I needed to write some Obi!  
Disclaimer: It's all George's!  
  
  


  
"Pathetic life form." Came the growling sound of his master’s voice. "Get up, it’s time to go to work."  
  
Ben rolled over and immediately winced in pain. Why did everything hurt so much?  
  
‘Oh yes,’ he thought bitterly, ‘I lifted about 5 tons of boxes yesterday.’  
  
He slowly got to his feet, pain blossoming through his back and legs.  
  
"Move it, slave. The hyperdrive isn’t gonna fix itself, ya know."  
  
"Yes, master." Ben pulled on his outer tunic. Yet again he wondered where he had gotten his clothing. He had that nice cloak and those great boots. They were worn and frayed now, but they had been of good, sturdy quality at one time. They were much too good for a lowly slave.He sighed. Perhaps he would never get the answer he sought. If only he could remember things more easily.  
  
‘Oh well.’ He thought, ‘No sense dwelling on it while there’s work to do.’  
  
Quickly pulling his long hair back into a ponytail he headed toward the engine area of the freighter. The hyperdrive was always breaking down and it was his task to fix it. Lots of things broke down on this ship and it was seemed to be Ben’s purpose in life to keep it running, regardless of the fact that he had almost no spare parts,  
  
‘The Corellians sure know how to make them.’ He thought sarcastically to himself. ‘This ship is so jury-rigged I’m surprised it gets off the ground.’  
  
Ben stood over the hyperdrive unit. He pulled on his beard thoughtfully, stopping to wonder where he had picked up that habit. Ah, yet another thing to add to the list of mysteries in his life. He turned his thoughts toward the task at hand. The drive was a real challenge to fix, but he managed to get it up and running by lunchtime.  
  
Though he thought it strange and often wondered why he did it, his master always insisted on cooking lunch for them both. It was horrible food, but the caff was strong and was just what Ben needed after the tiring morning.  
  
"We’re goin’ to Coruscant, slave. When we get there you’re gonna stay on the ship, got it?" The big besalisk gave Ben a shove as he said it.  
  
"Yes, sir." Ben’s voice had a dreamy quality to it. His mind had already wandered off to the excitement that lay ahead. Ben was going to Coruscant! He’d never been there before, at least not that he could remember. He was unlucky to be born with such a bad memory. It got him in a lot of trouble.  
  
When they arrived on the city-planet, Ben went from viewport to viewport, looking out onto the megalopolis.  
  
‘It’s lovely’ he thought. ‘I wonder why it feels so familiar? Eh, must be all those holovids of that big Jedi, Anakin Skywalker that I keep watching. They’re all still looking for that Obi-Wan Kenobi friend of his. It’s been six months, the poor man must be dead by now.’  
  
"Slave!" Tex was bellowing from the rear storage compartment. "Get in here and move this stuff. I need it restacked to make room for my new shipment."  
  
"Yes, sir." Ben sighed deeply and went to the rear of the ship to start moving boxes.  
  
"Alright slave, I’m gonna bring my cousin back here to see the ship. You get ‘er ready, got it?"  
  
"Yes, master." He grunted as he lifted a particularly heavy box. He guessed that he wouldn’t be seeing much of Coruscant after all.  
  
Later that afternoon, Ben heard the ships ramp drop down and two sets of large feet climb up into the entryway.  
  
"Come on in, Dex. I picked ‘er up real cheap. Bucket o’ bolts, but she’s fast."  
  
"You ain’t kiddin’ about the bolts part." Came the voice of another besalisk.  
  
"Slave?" Tex yelled out for Ben.  
  
"Here, master."  
  
"Go make some caff for my cousin Dex here."  
  
Ben came into the room, made a short bow to the two beings and headed for the galley. Dex looked at the slave long and hard. He carefully hid his flash of recognition.  
  
He slyly asked Tex, "So, cousin, when did you get that slave?"  
  
"He came with the ship. Got both about six months ago." Tex leaned in closer so Ben wouldn’t hear him. "He was apparently some sorta bad criminal. Guy who sold him to me says I gotta keep him medicated or he might go homicidal and kill me in my sleep or sumptin’. I slip it in his lunch every day. To be honest, I was thinkin’ about finding somebody else to take ‘im. Makes me a little nervous, ya know?"  
  
"Yeah, I got ya." Said Dex. "Hey, ya know, he might be really handy around the diner. Would ya be willin’ to trade a couple of droids for ‘im?"  
  
"Ya know, that’s not a bad thought. I could really use an astromech. And that’d be cheaper ta feed, too. Cousin, I think ya gotta deal!"  
  
Dex left shortly after to get the droids. Tex called Ben into the sleeping quarters.  
  
"Alright, Ben. I’m trading you to my cousin, Dex. You’ll be working at the diner from now on. You been a good little slave. Now go pack up."  
  
"Yes, sir." Ben wondered at the change of ownership, but it didn’t really matter much who had him anyway. This Dex guy seemed nice. And he’d be staying on Coruscant. Well that was exciting, at least!  
  
Dex returned with the droids and the trade was made. Ben had finished loading the rest of the shipment as Tex prepared to depart. The cousins gave each other a big, backslapping hug.  
  
"See ya, Dex. See ya, slave." And Tex climbed the ramp, started the engines and took off.  
  
Dex turned to Ben. He thought there was an odd look on his new master’s face. But then, he wasn’t an expert on Besalisk body language, maybe he always looked like that.  
  
"Alright there, Ben?" asked Dex rather gently.  
  
"Sure, master." Ben wondered why his master sounded so concerned.  
  
"Why doncha just call me Dex, okay?"  
  
"Sure, sir. I mean Dex." replied Ben.  
  
"We’ve gotta stop ta make on the way home, okay? I got some business at the Jedi Temple."  
  
"The Jedi Temple? Wow, will we get to meet that big Jedi, Anakin Skywalker?"  
  
"We might do just that." Replied a bemused Dex.  
  
They hailed an air taxi and Dex gave the driver the destination. Ben spent the entire ride looking out at the city. It was the most amazing sight he could remember. He couldn’t believe he’d get to see the Temple! His new master must be very important to have dealings with the Jedi. Sometimes at night Ben would dream he was a Jedi, with a lightsaber and everything. He and Anakin Skywalker would go on adventures to some strange planet and rescue people.  
  
Before Ben knew it, they arrived at the Temple. Dex paid the taxi pilot and then they walked in to the main entrance. Ben was completely awed at the size of the place. It was huge! He couldn’t believe his luck!  
  
Dex was unsure where to go next. He was looking about for some kind of information booth or something when a voice called out from across the large hall.  
  
"Master? Master?" A tall young man in dark Jedi robes came running across the huge space.  
  
"Oh master, you’re safe! Dex, where did you find him?" The young man came right up to them. Ben realized that this was Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. Wow!  
  
"My cousin picked ‘im up as part of a deal he got on a freighter. I traded a couple o’ droids for him this afternoon."  
  
"Droids? You had got him in trade for droids?" If Anakin had been less focused on the fact that his master was safe, he would have had a good laugh at his Master’s apparent worth on the black market.  
  
"Yup." Dex said with a big grin. "Not a bad deal, eh?"  
  
Anakin’s attention quickly turned back to his long lost Master. "Oh, Master, we’ve been searching the galaxy for months!"  
  
"I don’t understand. I’m not a master, I’m a slave." Ben was stunned and a bit confused. There stood Jedi Skywalker, looking just like those holovids. But why was he saying Master and looking at Ben?  
  
"What? No! You’re Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master. My Master to be exact."  
  
Ben just stared at him. This could not be true, it felt like one of his dreams.  
  
"He’s been drugged." Dex leaned in to whisper to Anakin. "He thinks his name is Ben."  
  
"Got it." Anakin whispered back. "Sorry Ben, you look so much like him I guess I was a bit confused. So, uh, would you like to see some of the Temple? I can show you around if you like. I understand you’ve got some problems with your memory, perhaps we can help with that as well."  
  
"Really? Master Jedi, that would be a great honor!" Ben replied enthusiastically.  
  
"Sure, just come with me." Anakin reached out and took his Master’s arm. "Thanks for all your help Dex. I’ll take it from here."  
  
Dex nodded and turned away.  
  
Ben called out after him, "Bye, master! See you later!"  
  
Ben stared up at the ceiling as they walked along. His head kept twisting to take in everything he saw. It was the most amazing place he’d ever seen. Soon they arrived at the med center. Anakin led Ben to a soft chair.  
  
"Now, Ben, just stay right here. I’ll get Healer Bant to come take care of you."  
  
"Thanks, Master Jedi!" Ben sat quietly while Anakin went to explain the situation to Bant.  
  
"He’s been drugged and kept as a slave?!" She was stunned that someone had managed to overcome the Jedi’s powerful shields. "At least he’s safe now. I’ll prepare something to help release his mind from the effects of the medications."  
  
She worked quickly while Anakin watched Ben from the doorway. When she was ready, they went out into the waiting area.  
  
"Hello Ben, I’m Healer Bant." She came towards him relieved to see him worse for wear, but not injured in any obvious way.  
  
"Hello there!" replied the enthusiastic Ben.  
  
"Yes, he’s still in there somewhere." Bant said to Anakin, under her breath.  
  
"Ben, I’m going to ask you to just relax here on this table." She led him to a nearby examining area. "I’m going to give you something that will let you sleep for a little while. You should feel much better in the morning."  
  
"Thank you, ma’am." He had a grin of adoration plastered on his face. "I’m glad to see that the Jedi are really as amazing and helpful as I see on those holovids!" He turned his focus back to Anakin. "I hope you find your friend soon, Master Skywalker… " As Bant put the needle into his arm, Ben passed into unconsciousness.  
  
"I will, Ben, I will." Anakin smiled softly and pulled up a chair to await his Master’s return. 

 

Epilogue: (Is that possible with a vignette?)  
  
Anakin stood outside the refresher in his Master’s room. Obi-Wan had been in there an awfully long time and his former apprentice was beginning to worry.  
  
"Master, are you alright in there?"  
  
"Yes, Anakin, I’m fine! After what I’ve gone through, you’d think I deserved a bit of peace and a good long soak!" Obi-Wan’s voice sounded cranky through the durasteel door.  
  
"Yes, Master." Anakin smiled to himself. His grumpy, old Master was back to normal.  
  
"I will be out in a moment, young one." The strong voice soften slightly. "There was something I have wanted to take care of from the moment I saw myself in the mirror yesterday."  
  
Obi-Wan’s voice grew louder as the ‘fresher door slide open.  
  
"There. That’s better and much more befitting a Jedi Knight, don’t you think?"  
  
Anakin turned toward him and saw that his Master had cut off the long ponytail that had grown in during his absence. He had not stopped there, though. He had cropped his hair almost as short as it had been in his Padawan days.  
  
"It looks, well, good, Master." Anakin replied, smiling. "I guess that means that Ben is gone for good as well?"  
  
"Oh, he may resurface someday. I’ve rather grown fond of the name, though I can’t say why. That hair though! Ach. I’ll gladly leave it to you young ones!"  


  



	21. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of light in the lower levels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an answer to the writer's challenge for light.

Title: Light   
Author: Jennifer_Lyn  
Timeframe: way before the Saga  
Characters: a tree  
Genre: Drama  
Summary: The last day of light in the lower levels  
Notes: This is an answer to the writer's challenge for light.  
Disclaimer: It all belongs to George Lucas  
  
  


Construction crews had been working for months. Actually, if one was to be accurate, they were working for centuries. Coruscant had long ago lost its last piece of open space. Nature no longer existed in the traditional sense. It had adapted and changed. Creatures had evolved over time to accommodate the lack of water, of soil and even of fresh air. But one thing had remained. Light. The sun had still shown through the numerous transparisteel windows and skylights. And here, at the center of the main square in the government sector of the city-planet, there remained a single tree. It was so old that its roots were actually planted in the base soil. A transparisteel conservatory enclosed it, and yet it grew. It stretched toward the sun, leaves reaching for the life-giving, ultra-violet waves. Its limbs had grown longer and thinner, trying to maintain a connection to the light despite the high-rise buildings around it.  
  
The construction teams were paid well for their jobs. Even so, some of them felt a sad at the thought of what they were about to do. The foundations of all the buildings on the planet had been reinforced and shored up solidly. Once that was complete the new construction could began. There would be a modern city, a modern society, built right on top of the old. There was nowhere else to build but up and progress wouldn’t be stopped by such trivial things as providing light to the lower levels of buildings. At least that’s what their leaders said.  
  
The crews had worked tirelessly and were looking forward to a short break before construction began on the new buildings. The sun was shining brightly onto the tall old tree that day. The building cranes carried over the last piece of durasteel that would seal the new foundation on which they would build even larger buildings. The panel was strong, thick and opaque. A small crowd had gathered at the base of the tree, looking skyward at the large machinery high above. Slowly the sheet was lowered. Slivers of sunlight still reached through at the edges as it swayed on its descent until with a loud thud, it slid into place. Darkness filled the space that used to be the sky and the tree saw the sunlight no more. 

  



	22. The Open Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An electrical storm threatens the dynamic duo’s mission until a unique solution presents itself.

  
**Title:** The Open Road **  
**Rating: PG  
**Characters:** Obi-Wan, Anakin and OC  
**Timeframe:** between TPM & AOTC  
**Warnings:** none **  
Summary:** An electrical storm threatens the dynamic duo’s mission until a unique solution presents itself.

  


Mediating peace between warring peoples was never an easy task under the best of circumstances. Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was one of the best negotiators in the galaxy and yet it had still taken weeks of work before he and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, began to see progress from all of their toil. Sacrifices had been made on all sides. The colonists from Gall sacrificed control over a small portion of the land they had taken. The original colonists agreed in their turn to allow the current generation of Gallish settlers to remain, sacrificing familial claims to the land for the next fifty years. Even Obi-Wan sacrificed, forced to shave his beard and trim his hair according to local custom before any members from either side would take him seriously.  
  
Now that the two colonies had finally agreed on terms to end their civil war, only the signing of a treaty remained, set to take place at the capital. Obi-Wan and Anakin were there when the original settlers sent their final communication the evening before the event. The stubborn group put forth the caveat that the new settlers be there the next day by sundown to sign or the ceasefire would end. The Jedi were thankful when at last all had agreed to even these final terms.  
  
During the night, a fierce storm that had been brewing over the last week finally erupted, covering half the planet in a cloud of electrical fireworks. Though it produced no rain, the storm of a lifetime, potentially cataclysmic in its scope, knocked out power across the entire continent. In addition, the static it produced disrupted all electrical currents, disabling communications and grounding all repulsorlift powered vehicles.  
  
The morning was growing old as Obi-Wan sat on a deep blue, upholstered chair inside their host's home, his brow furrowed in thought as he watched his teenaged Padawan pace about in front of him.  
  
“Master, what are we gonna do? I can fix anything, but only if we can use power.” Anakin ground his teeth loud enough for his Master to hear. His most prized skill was useless in this situation.  
  
Obi-Wan, after long years together able to recognize when Anakin was at his boiling point, stood and put a comforting hand on his student's shoulder. “Calm down, young one. We will find a solution, even if it means starting the negotiations from the ground up. Just be patient and we shall see what presents itself.”  
  
Anakin groaned in reply, but relented his frantic pacing as Obi-Wan ushered him to a chair. With the boy finally meditating in uneasy silence, Obi-Wan was able to consider the problem in peace. As he was rejecting a number of unworkable solutions in his mind, a gray haired gentleman entered the room.  
  
Obi-Wan raised his head and smiled at the man, “Elder Jintaro, is there any word on when this storm will lift?”  
  
Jintaro shook his head and Obi-Wan began to run his thoughts towards preparing for another round of long negotiations. As he did so, he unconsciously began pacing the room, echoing Anakin's earlier frustration.  
  
"Giving in so easily, Master Jedi?" the man chided him, a mischevious smile on his face. "After seeing how hard you've worked, I'm surprised at you."  
  
Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks and looked at the man, eyebrow raised in incredulity. "Do you have some power over the weather, Elder?"  
  
Jintaro smirked at the comment. The two men had become fast friends over the course of the negotiations. The first time Obi-Wan's well-timed, dry wit broke up a particularly tense moment between the factions, Jintaro knew his people were in good hands.  
  
“Of course not, you snarky, young man." His tone turned more serious, "Hear me out before we give up, Master Jedi. If you would be willing to try it, I believe I have an alternative way of getting Kinto here.”  
  
Askon Jintaro had been the advocate for Jedi intervention and spearheaded the assembly that was forcing the original settlement’s leader, Kannan Ventro, into treaty talks with the opposition leader, Harran Kinto. An easy-going man with a passion to protect his people from further harm, the Jedi had quickly come to trust the Elder in return.  
  
“As long as it is within our power, we will give your solution a try.” Obi-Wan replied, nodding his head in deference.  
  
After rousing Obi-Wan's grousing apprentice from his fitful meditations, they made their way to Jintaro's home. Instead of going to the front door, he instead went to the side and opened the door to his vehicle storage area. Inside was a speeder, still plugged into its useless charging port. A second, strange looking vehicle stood next to it, no port in sight. It had the appearance of a swoop bike in many respects, there was a type of blast shield at the front and tubular exhaust vents coming out the rear. The seat would require the rider to straddle the body, leaning forward on the close-set handlebars. There was something about it that looked very odd. Obi-Wan realized what it was as Jintaro spoke.  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t she? She's got wheels made of rubberon that keep her on the road and she runs on a liquid fuel.”  
  
“It doesn’t use repulsorlifts?” Anakin asked, wrinkling his nose.  
  
“No, it’s an old technology," Jintaro replied simply. "but I’ve kept it in top shape, a nostalgia piece if you will. Used to ride it all the time, but I'm a bit old for such adventures now." he looked at Obi-Wan. "It would get one of you to Kinto’s settlement by day’s end. You can bring him back in plenty of time to sign the treaty tomorrow.”  
  
Obi-Wan caught his Padawan’s dubious look at the vehicle. He smirked at the boy’s reaction. It didn’t fly and that made the Anakin uneasy, making the decision quite simple.  
  
“Anakin, I trust that you can handle things from this end. I’ll take the vehicle and go retrieve Leader Kinto.”  
  
Obi-Wan felt the surging mixture of pride and relief that flowed from his Padawan through their bond. It would be a boost to Anakin’s confidence to handle this end of the negotiations and, as they were all but completed, there was little potential that he could damage the mission’s success.  
  
Anakin smiled at his mentor, “Yes, Master. I won’t let you down." Looking a bit sheepish, he added, "I confess I am doubtful about riding that thing.”  
  
“Anakin, don’t be impolite. It is not a thing. It’s a …” Obi-Wan was stumped for a name. He had never seen the vehicle’s like before.  
  
Jintaro answered to his loss with a smile. “It’s called a motorized bicycle, Master Jedi. Or motorcycle, if you like, and I am happy to lend it to you.”  
  
Returning to his temporary home, Obi-Wan quickly gathered some survival supplies. He also replaced his Jedi robes with thicker, warmer clothes to protect him from extended exposure to the wind. As he pulled on the black, Bantha leather jacket, he felt aprobing in the bond he shared with his apprentice.  
  
"Master?" Anakin had been silent since the walk back from Jintaro's.  
  
"Yes, young one?" Obi-Wan replied, "Worried about me, are you? Don't be troubled, I'm sure that motorcycle will keep me perfectly safe and the storm will pass in time."  
  
The boy hesitated and Obi-Wan as pleased to see him weigh his words thoroughly before speaking. "It's not that, Master. You just seem very different here. I'm not sure what it is."  
  
"Perhaps my physical appearance is distracting you, young one. Do not worry, the robes and beard will be back before you know it." Obi-Wan grinned.  
  
"Yes, Master. That may be it." the young man conceded before sitting down at a table piled with flimisplasts and datapads. "though I feel it is something else."  
  
After Obi-Wan provided detailed instructions to his Padawan and found his other preparations complete, the two of them walked back to Jintaro's home.  
  
There the elder explained the basics of the controls on the motorcycle to Obi-Wan before giving him a flimsiplast map, the route clearly marked in red. After securing the flimsi in his jacket pocket, Obi-Wan rolled the vehicle out of the storage bay and pushed the starting pedal. With a loud growl, the machine roared to life. Anakin visibly took a step back as a small plume of black smoke released from the rear exhaust. Maneuvering the dual-wheeled machine out into the street, Obi-Wan decided to take a quick test run before leaving to retrieve Leader Kinto.  
  
Pushing hard on the fuel release pedal, Obi-Wan was nearly knocked from his seat as the machine jolted forward, accelerating with unexpected speed down the street. It was much louder than any swoop bike he had ridden and as Obi-Wan leaned forward on the seat, he could feel the combustion engine vibrating under him. The wheelsseemed to find every hole in the road, try as he might to avoid them. His joints were relentlessly pounded by each bump and rut. Obi-Wan grinned, loving every minute.  
  
After circling the town square and attracting numerous stares with all the smoke and noise, he reluctantly returned to Jintaro’s home. When he finished securing his provisions to the back of the cycle, he said a quick goodbye, good luck and May the Force be with you to Anakin and Jintaro and took off for the open roads.  
  
As the capital faded in his rearview mirrors, Obi-Wan soon lost himself in the beautiful countryside. The road ran along the edges of an open plain surrounded by low, old hills. Stone bridges, made by hand centuries before, crossed over flowing streams. The beauty that now surrounded him helped to make sense of why the settlers fought so vehemently over their land. A man could find a good life here.  
  
The speed of the wind pushed Obi-Wan’s hair back against his head and stung his face. He started growing cold as well and was glad he had donned the warmer jacket and sturdy pants before he left. A few hours into the trip, he stopped to give his body a break, check his map and take a look around. He filled his lungs with a deep breath, releasing a tension from his shoulders that he had not realized he had been holding. The weeks of negotiations had worn on his nerves, but out here it seemed like none of that even existed. All alone out on the open road,traveling on a vehicle he could not have imagined if he tried, a quiet peace filled his heart. He laughed out loud when he realized that as a bonus to all of this, he didn’t have to fly.  
  
Knowing he needed to keep going to make Kinto’s settlement by sundown he did not risk idling for very long. It was some time later before he stopped to eat along the bank of a large river. The storm was beginning to clear and it was very peaceful and quiet. There were no repulsorlifts, no hyperdrives, no squabbling politicians and warlords. Just Obi-Wan, the cycle and the sound of the wind through the grasses.  
  
After finishing his light meal, he got back on the cycle and continued his journey. He was about three quarters of the way to his destination when he heard a familiar whine overhead. It was a speeder engine. Obi-Wan let out an audible groan, though none would have heard it over the combustion engine, even if they were there. He pressed on to the Gallish camp and when he arrived a young man about Anakin’s age greeted him outside.  
  
“Master Jedi?” the boy's voice cracked. He still had much growing to do if the sound was any indication.  
  
Obi-Wan nodded his affirmative to the youngster.  
  
“The storm has cleared and we’re in contact with the old-timer’s settlement. There is an urgent comm call waiting for you. If you’ll come with me.”  
  
Obi-Wan followed the youngster to a small communications room. The equipment was old, but in good working condition. He sat down and picked up the handheld comm from the table.  
  
“Kenobi, here.” He spoke into the unit, realizing that in just a few hours time his voice had become unfamiliar to his own ears. The comm crackled with static; theremnants of the storm still effecting the clarity of the signal.  
  
“Master! I’m so glad you made it safely on that weird machine!” Obi-Wan couldn't help but roll his eyes at his Padawan’s comment.  
  
"Yes, Anakin, I'm all in one piece." he replied.  
  
The excited voice on the other end of the connection continued, ignoring the patronizing tone of his Master's voice, “The power’s back on as you can see. I came out in a speeder and picked up Leader Kinto. He and Ventro already signed the treaty and Master? They’re actually celebrating together.”  
  
Obi-Wan smiled with relief. Their mission was a success. “Good work, Padawan.”  
  
His voice pitched high and quick, Anakin passed on his next bit of news, “You can pick up a speeder there, Master. You’ll be back in no time. Jintaro will send someone to shuttle that machine back.”  
  
Obi-Wan could tell his Padawan was anxious to get off the planet. Their stay had been quite long enough for the boy's tastes, but the Master found that he was not in the same hurry as his apprentice.  
  
“Anakin, will you put Elder Jintaro on the comm, please?” he responded to Anakin's kineticism with calm.  
  
“Sure, Master.” His voice was questioning, but compliant.  
  
A moment later, the elder’s voice came over the comm. “Yes, Master Jedi?”  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated for a brief moment. He knew he was about to make his Padawan quite unhappy and he’d probably have to listen to the complaints the entire way back to the Temple. But one look at the gawkers gathered around the motorcycle outside was all it took to confirm that his idea would be worth it.  
   
“Elder Jintaro, if you don’t mind, I’d like to bring the cycle back myself.”  
  
“Liked it that much, did you, Kenobi?” Obi-Wan could hear his new friend’s smile, even through the static.  
  
“Yes, sir, I quite did.” He gave an honest, yet sheepish reply.  
  
“Well then, be my guest.” The man said with a knowing chuckle. “And if you’ll notice, I’ve marked an alternate route on that flimsiplast. It’s the long way round and a bit more, shall we say, scenic?”  
  
“Thank you, sir, I’ll use that." Obi-Wan replied, grinning. "And if you don’t mind, let my Padawan know my plans. If he complains too much, you have my permission to make him sleep in one of his precious speeders.” And with that, Obi-Wan closed the link, laughter still emanating from the other end of the comm.  
  
Without another word to anyone, Obi-Wan went back out to the cycle. Startling the staring group of citizens when the motorcycle started up, instead of turning it off or apologizing, Obi-Wan just grinned at them and pointed the vehicle into the sunset. Later that night, with the light of the orbiting moons illuminating the vast plains, a loud “Whoo-hoo” echoed across the valley as the motorcycle and its usually dignified rider cleared the first of many well-marked jumps on their journey home.


End file.
